Ashes of The Past --- The 70th Annual Hunger Games SYOT
by TheOtherLachance
Summary: *SYOT CLOSED* After the mess that was the 63rd Annual Hunger Games, Head Gamemaker Sullius shot himself in the head. However, his successor plans an equally disturbing Games for his final year... Can the tributes escape the rush of lava, the animals that seek to rip them to pieces, and the undead tributes who walk again, thirsty for blood?
1. In the Beginning

**GAMEMAKER FALION MARSEY**

Sullius is dead. After the 63rd Hunger Games, his last year as Head Gamemaker, he went into hiding and nobody knew where he had gone. He was found recently, a full seven years after the incident, with a bullet through his head and his own hand clutching the pistol... Self murder! I, personally, considered the possibility that our dear President Snow sent assassins after him, but... I doubt it.

Poor Sullius was mad as a hatter, anyway.

I've been Head Gamemaker for a long time, now, and I think this will be my best year yet. Last year, the 69th Hunger Games, a mouthy little girl from District 7 won. Johanna Mason. I hope we'll get a better Victor than her this year, because I'd rather like these Games to be a success.

After all, they are going to be held on an active volcano.

I stand on the hovercraft, staring down at the volcano with quite some satisfaction. Red hot lava is already spewing from the top of it, and there is a dense jungle surrounding it... I wonder what this years' tributes will be like?

Well, they'd better be fast runners.

A small smirk on my face, I turn around to glance at the Avox who is driving the hovercraft. I clap my hands together triumphantly.

"It's perfect!" I call out, staring out across it like a father stares at a new born child. Oh, this arena has everything! A volcano brimming with lava, a jungle full of monstrous creaturses, an ocean teeming with vicious sea-monsters... And the best part? The graveyard. Right on the outskirts of the arena, I have planted a graveyard... Where the zombified bodies of the dead tributes shall walk, wanting their revenge... Oh, this will be a year to remember!

The hovercraft begins to zoom away across the water towards the Capitol, and I smirk and sit back in my seat, beginning to write down some ideas. It's been hinted that this may be my last year as Head Gamemaker before Seneca Crane takes over, so I must change their minds. And perhaps if I stage a good enough Games, President Snow will change his mind and let me keep my job.

It's that Johanna Mason's fault... She messed with the boards, and I'm going to lose my job, and possibly my head, because of it! Oh if I could get my hands on her...

Someday, I hope she goes back into the arena and somebody kills her painfully. Or perhaps I could persuade the President to order her be executed?

Well, whatever happens... I will stay the Head Gamemaker. And if I have to tear these tributes to pieces, then so be it.

**Alright, here is the form... The boy from District 2 is already reserved, all others are free :) Pm me with your submission, or it will not be accepted.**

**Name: **

**District (put 2 choices):**

**Gender:**

**Age:**

**Personality:**

**Appearance: **

**Family/Friends:**

**Background:**

**Alliance?:**

**Weapon of Choice: **


	2. District 1 Reaping

**GLINT FORGE, DISTRICT 1 MALE**

The sword slashes inches from my face, and I bring my mace up to meet it. Gritting my teeth with concentration, I bring the gauntlet on my other arm round, smashing into my opponent's face. He falls back onto one knee with a cry of pain; a splash of blood flies from his nose, and there is a resounding crack.

Breathing hard, I point my spiked mace at him and wait for him to submit as people are supposed to do at the end of duels... Especially today. It's Reaping today, and the fight we just had was to determine which one of us will be this year's male tribute... My mother will be so proud! Despite myself, I turn around to smile triumphantly at the trainer who is overseeing us... There is a dark, rather unpleasant look on her face. Her arms are crossed, but she extends one arm to flick her hand at me.

"Go on, then," she challenges, raising her thin eyebrows. I just stare at her, my mouth slightly agape. Frozen. What does she mean? Seeing my non-plussed expression, she rolls her eyes. "Kill him. A tribute has to be able to kill."

I gulp. Now I'd just like to explain something: I've been a fighter for all of my life, been training for the Games. Ever since I was a little baby, all I've wanted to do was compete... Fighting is the best part of me. The adrenaline that fills me with the swinging weapons, the way my heart beats faster and faster as I swing my mace back and forth... But killing? Ending a life?

Looking down, I see my old training partner Callias' face as he stares at the ground, breathing hard... He is whimpering. He is not looking at me, but I can see the fear in his dark eyes... We've been friends and partners ever since we first came to this centre, competing every day... Like a big game. And now the game has ended.

Seeing my hesitation, the trainer sighs and begins tapping her foot. I hear the sound of a door closing and, turning my head, I realise that a different class has come in. The little twelve year olds. And with them comes Tanner, an ex-victor and my close friend. He's twenty two, four years older than me, and used to live in the house next door to mine. There is an apologetic look on his face.

"We're waiting!" I just stand there, frozen. How can I kill Callias? He's praying under his breath, and I can see tears coming from his eyes. The salty water mixes with the blood dripping from his broken nose. The trainer apparently grows tired with me, and bursts out in a furious voice, "Do it, you stupid block-head!"

Without hesitation, I bring back my mace and slam it towards his head. It makes contact and I hear a horrible crunch as his skull is mashed in. He lets out a weak moan, then slumps to the ground... My first kill. The room is completely silent; the little twelve year olds all stare at Callias' corpse on the ground. Clenching and unclenching my fists, I let out a groan before turning round to my trainer. There is a vicious look on her face.

"Good... Do not hesitate in the arena, however, or you will die. Dismissed."

With another small cry, I drop my mace to the floor and run to Callias' side. He's bleeding all over the floor, his eyes wide as he stares into nothingness... I killed him. Only a few moments ago he was living and breathing, and now? He's dead...

I feel a hand on my shoulder and, turning around, I spot Tanner. He is kneeling by my side, a calm expression on his face. He looks far older than his twenty two years, but I guess that's what the arena does to you. I wonder if I'll look like that when I'm his age?

"I remember when they made me do that," Tanner says, and I hear the slight tremble in his voice. He knew Callias as well as I did, as he trained both of us for four years, and I can see that he is masking tears. It's only then that I realise there is a tear dribbling down my face, and I bat it away fiercely. He gives me a sad smile. "But then again, I never hesitated when I had to kill in the arena. And neither will you. I'm sorry that this happened to you though... It's hard to forget. Off you go, now, go get a shower and get ready for the Reaping. You'll feel better."

So I walk home. My family lives in the Victors Village: my father won the Hunger Games, many years ago. But he drank himself into an early grave. I don't know why, since it must be amazing to be a victor... My mother told me that he was a "very sad man". He died a couple of years after I was born.

When I open the door, I find my mother sitting my the fire, tapping her fingernails on her thigh. As I walk into the kitchen, she stands up.

"Glint? What happened?" Although she tells me that she wants me to be a tribute, I'm not sure that she's being truthful. Before... before Juno went into the Games and got killed, she was certain that I would go in and win. But I guess seeing your daughter die makes you value your other children more. Even though she makes me train hard in the day, she'll always tell me she loves me before I go to bed.

"I got picked... They made me kill Callias." there is a tremble in my tone as I say his name, and I have to sit down before I do something stupid like cry. My mum doesn't like it when I cry, because it makes me seem weak. Her voice is cold and emotionless, but I can see the pity in her eyes as she replies.

"Well, at least you know you can kill now..." but she reaches out to touch my arm. "But don't make the mistake your older sister did. Now go and get ready; Cade is coming to see you before you go."

I nod and run upstairs to my room. Cade is my older brother, and the eldest sibling. He was always a father figure to me growing up, and once even tried to convince me to quit the Games... And I went and told the trainers I didn't want to do it any more, because my brother said. That night, his fiance got threatened by thugs. I had to re-enroll after that.

And Juno? I never really saw her. She was coldly distant, and spent most of her time training for the Games... Juno went in four years ago, and never came out. She finished 5th. They say Careers are arrogant and, in her case, that is certainly true. After her ego got too big and she made some ridiculous mistakes, she was killed by a thirteen year old from District 10. It drove my mother into a depression. And then, when she came out of it, she was all set to withdraw me from the Academy. But... but I like fighting. It's fun! It's just killing that I don't like.

I take a shower and pull some clothes on, before heading downstairs to find Cade talking to my mother about something. When they see me, they both turn and smile. There's something kind of unnatural about the smiles, but I don't know what...

"Hey there, little brother," Cade says, bounding up to punch me gently on the shoulder. There is a glint of misery in his pale blue eyes. They are the exact same shade as mine. "Ready to be r-r-r-Reaped?"

"Ready to volunteer, more like," I reply, still remembering Callias' face... But I'm going to have to put it out of my head before I go into the Games. Nobody likes a grumpy tribute, because Juno was always angry and she barely got any sponsors at all.

After having some breakfast, I walk out to the Reaping alone. Cade and my mother will come later, because they don't have to be registered, but I like getting there early.

The place is already packed when I get there, and I push my way to the front. Since I'm volunteering, and somehow the news has already got around, everyone gets out of my way. A few people even shoot me fearful glances which is a nice chance.

Soon, the district escort comes onstage and begins talking to us about the Dark Days, and how the Hunger Games are supposed to remind us of our treachery. I don't take very much of it in, because my mind is on Callias again... In fact, I only notice as a name is called and my heart speeds up. This is it!

"Ki-"

"I volunteer!" with a triumphant crow, I bound up to stage. The district escort gives me an excited smile, before moving onto the girls. I'm excited, but I'm also scared... How will I ever be able to kill, if what happened to me with Callias happens again? And we weren't even that close, even though we were training partners...

I try and think about the adrenaline that fighting brings me. And soon, I'm cheerful again.

**VEX ZAKHAE, DISTRICT 1 FEMALE**

"I hope all will be well. We must be patient; but I cannot choose but weep..." glancing over to my script, I bite my lip. Damn it! I thought I had it memorised... I've always been interested in the play of Hamlet, particularly the character of Ophelia. We'd learned about it in school, and the whole idea captivated me. In the Capitol, they have these actors who dramatise things on television... I'd love to do that.

But I wish they'd bring back the beautiful old classics, like Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, or Anthony and Cleopatra. Outside of training to be a Career, I'm part of a theatre company. I've always wanted to play the part of Ophelia, but it's always been given to older actresses before. Performing arts are quite the "done" thing in this district. Although my father is more interested in my Career training.

"To think that they would lay him in the cold ground. My brother shall know of it; and so I thank you for your good counsel... Shit!" With an irritated glare at the script, I flop back into bed. Since I never sleep too well before Reapings, I decided I'd whip out my script and do a bit more practise. And I'm certainly regretting it.

Shutting my eyes, I doze for a few minutes before opening my eyes and getting up. I was chosen to volunteer for the district this year, mostly because of a lack of other eligible candidates. I've only just turned sixteen, but I'm one of the eldest girls in the training academy. Most district 1 girls are too busy primping themselves and flirting to bother with it. Honestly, I'd rather be an actress or something to do with literature, but my father wants me to know how to survive.

It's not such a burden, anyway. Although I wasn't incredibly enthusiastic when I was informed that I am going into the Hunger Games... I'm quite nervous, actually. I'm sure all of the kids from the poorer districts are more nervous than I am though, since they have no training at all. I haven't trained as much as some of the other girls, but the last big batch turned nineteen and are no longer eligible. And since there are only four of us over fifteen, I was basically picked out of a hat...

I grab a hair tie from my dressing table and gingerly wind it into my hair. You could say I've got an OCD about my hair. I hate it being messy. Not like "TOUCH MY HAIR I'LL BEAT THE LIVING CRAP OUT OF YOU" aggressive like some of the other girls from my district, but I have been known to get angry about it. Not my make-up, not my nails.. Just my damn hair.

Stretching my arms out, I warm my muscles up. I'm not going to training this morning, since I've already been chosen, but I'm trying to keep myself in good condition for the Games... When I first got the news, I was terrified. But after a few weeks, I've just... come to terms with it. And who knows? I might even... I might even win. I've trained, and I use twin hook swords well... I just hope the Gamemakers put them in, since they're a vaguely unknown weapon.

"Vex! Are you up?" my father walks into the room, carrying a plate stacked high with bread and poached eggs. We're a middle class family, even though it's only me and my dad... My mother died when I was seven from pancreatic cancer. After she died, I did a lot of research into it because it kind of helped the pain of her dying... I still miss her sometimes, although I don't remember her too well. I still have my dad, and I love him a lot.

Taking the plate, I grin at him. "Good morning to you too, dad."

He rolls his eyes, before giving me a quick, one-armed hug. The plate of food is squished rather awkwardly between us, so he lets go quite quickly. Soon, he spies the script by my bed and bites his lip, a small frown coming onto his face. He isn't too pleased with the fact that I like acting, but he puts up with it. However, I don't think he'll be too pleased if I choose it as a career option.

But then again, I might not even survive to see my eighteenth birthday, so live and let live.

Sitting down on the edge of my bed, I begin to tuck into my food in a way that would make most of the girls from my school vomit all over their high heels. He leaves soon enough to get his own breakfast, and I soon finish and get dressed in my Reaping clothes. I bathed and washed my hair last night to save myself some time, because I knew that I'd attempt a lie in.

After I'm done, I grab my twin hooks from the rack by my bedroom door, and have a last minute bedroom. I've got a large bedroom, so I manage to successfully do so without slicing my walls to pieces. When I'm done, I take a swig of water from a bottle on my bedside table, and go over to my dressing table and look in the mirror...

"Damn..." my hair is impressively frizzy. Swearing under my breath, I grab a silver backed brush and pull it out of it's ponytail, before brushing it through as thoroughly as I can. I have straight black hair that usually falls into place quite quickly, but today it's putting up quite some resistance. After about half an hour I manage to tame it, then do a slightly wiggly ring of eyeliner around my eyes. I don't have a very stable hand, but it works... well, it'll look alright to the cameras, hopefully.

Walking out of my room, I go and hug my dad goodbye for what could be the last time. No, don't think like that, Vex. It won't be the last time, not if you do your best. And you know what? I might not do too bad: if I think of a good enough strategy, I might be able to make it... I'll just have to think about a strategy. But I like puzzles. I'll... I'll miss my dad a lot, though.

I go down the street towards the Justice Building, and I'm pulled into a group of girls from my class. They're watching this boy, Glint, as he walks to the Reaping... whispering and giggling. I'm pretty popular because I don't have much of a backbone, so I get along with everyone alright... I don't know Glint, though.

"Hey Vex! Oh my God, you know he's going to be your district partner?!" Shimmer, a blonde girl with the bluest eyes I have ever seen, squeals at me. I smile at her. She has her younger sister Glimmer by the hand and is tugging her... No, Shimmer does not have the bluest eyes I've ever seen. Glimmer does.

"Yeah, he looks pretty tough," I reply cheerfully, hands in my pockets. The rest of them crowd around and begin to congratulate me, but most of it is rather acid-tongued. None of them train, but I'm sure they'd love to go into the Games with Glint and get to talk to him; he's quite good looking...

"He's so hot!" Shimmer practically screams, and the others all agree in even louder tones. I smile politely, and let them drag me along to the Reaping.

When the district escort Saffron comes onstage and begins talking to us about the Dark Days etcetera, however, my smile fades. My heart begins to thump harder and harder; this could be the last time I stand in the crowds for the Reaping day. For one reason or another. All that is going through my head at the moment are six words.

I gotta get out of here.

But everyone's eyes are on me, and everyone knows I'm going to volunteer. I can't stand up my whole district like that, can I? No... I can't afford to think like that.

Saffron starts with the boys and, sure enough, Glint is called up. He practically beams at the crowd as he stands there proudly, and I note that he is slightly like a little boy. Just in the way that he's like an overgrown puppy rather than a killing machine.

Then, it's the girls turn. I shut my eyes, knowing that I'm going to have to volunteer. But how should I do it? The usual "I VOLUNTEER", or should I do something more dramatic and interesting? You know, get myself noticed?

However, she calls out the name before I even manage to think of anything interesting to do. "Glimm-"

"I volunteer!" I call out, planting a ginormous smile on my features. After checking my hair with one hand, I walk up to the stage and preen at the cameras, as almost all District 1 girls do. Okay, what happened to _doing something different_?

Glint and I shake hands, before we are sent into the Justice Building. But all that is going through my mind, still, is _I gotta get out of here! I gotta get out of here!_

The fake smile slips off my face and I stare straight forwards as I clench and unclench my fists.


	3. District 2 Reaping

**Damn, the 70th were Annie's games... Erm... Okay, I'm going to have to totally betray canon here then, because I'd have to abandon several tributes and stuff so... um... Sorry about that :p**

**MEDAL AMMOLITE, DISTRICT 2 MALE**

"Medal, get up! The Reaping's in an hour!" I open my eyes to find a warm weight on my left arm. Turning my head sideways, I find my face inches away from my girlfriend Maria's. But it wasn't her who spoke, of course; she's still lying asleep... So who was it...? Then, I realise and my eyes widen. Shit! My mum!

"What are you doing in there?" I hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and my heart speeds up as I realise that my mother is going to barge in and find me and my girl in bed together! Shaking her awake as quickly as I can, I pull the bedcovers up to my chin and she wriggles down out of sight...

The door is thrown open and my mum walks in, hands on hips. She takes one look at my disarrayed room and frowns. Usually, I keep it neat and tidy but after last night's... activities... it got rather messy. Attempting to act natural, I stretch my arms out and yawn, ignoring the feeling of Maria practically shaking. She's terrified of my mum, always has been. In fact, most people in the district are.

Ever since my older brother James died in the Hunger Games a full seven years ago, she's become less quiet and more military-esque. If I'm not up and stretching before five, on most days, she'll dump a bucket of water over my head.

"Morning," I say cheerfully, smiling widely at her... too widely. From the frown on her face I can tell she knows something is wrong. Taking a few brisk steps towards my bed, she grabs the end of the covers and yanks, hard. The smile fades from my face as Maria is revealed, curled up, and wearing only a bra and pants. The look on my mother's face is thunderous as Maria smiles weakly at her.

"Hey, Mrs Ammolite... um..." she sits there awkwardly, attempting to cover up as much bare skin as she can. My mother, meanwhile, is looking at her like she's a piece of scum on the bottom of her shoe.

"Get out." she says flatly, scooping up a top and skirt from the floor and tossing them at her. Maria catches them and dresses quickly, before running out of the door, face reddened with shame. My mother stares at me all the while, a look of total outrage on her face. "Medal... Your brother James died in the 63rd Hunger Games. You remember him?"

I nod slowly. I was only a little kid at the time, about eight years old, but I remember him clearly. And my eldest brother Eddie, who died in the Games a few years before that... That's why I have to win, you see. Because both of my brothers have died in previous years, and I have to beat them. My mother got slack after Eddie died, and my brother James was an emotional wreck. He came third, after being outsmarted by Matthis from District 3, who later went onto win, and this frizzy haired boy whose name I don't remember.

"I remember James." I reply shortly, grabbing some trousers off the floor and pulling them on. Checking myself out in the mirror on my wall, I grab a comb from the dressing table and begin to comb through my brown hair. I don't look much like James, not at all.

"He came third. I loved him so much, but I let him get weak... You understand why you can't be weak, Medal?" I nod, grabbing a shirt and pulling it over my head. She walks over to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. "I love you, Medal. A lot. And that's why I don't want you to get hurt... You're still volunteering today, aren't you?"

Nodding again, I stand in front of her as proudly as I can. After Eddie and James both failed her, I have to do right. But I've learned from their mistakes and I am the model Career. James got angry? I can generally control my temper. He let himself be outsmarted? I will always stay a step ahead, and I will not let any crazy bastard from District 10 poise the others against me. Or from any district, come to that. Eddie was stupid. And I'm not.

All of my life, I've known that I have to make my mother proud after her last disappointments. Sometimes, I miss the soft, gentle woman she was before James got himself killed. But it's made me stronger, all of this... As well as the fact we don't have to put up with my father any more. He made the mistake of calling James a "Disgrace to the Ammolite name"... Let's say, my mother snapped. She ordered him out of the house, and the divorce papers were written up by the end of that week.

She married the Head Peacekeeper of our district, which is rather good for me. It means I get a big house, and I am demanded the respect of my district. I don't go to school, since there is no need for that. Sure, it means I don't know things like Maths or Science. But you know what I do know? How to kill a person. Which is why I was picked to be this year's male tribute for Distict 2.

"Good... And if I catch Maria with you again like that, I'll skin your sorry hide. Now get ready." mum bustles out of the room, leaving me alone. I watch her go, before sighing and sitting down on the bed. Since I figured it might be my last night ever in District 2, I wanted to share it with the person I love most in the world... But then again, if my mother had her way, I'd be training for the Games 24/7.

She just doesn't want to lose another child to the Games, I suppose.

I soon follow her downstairs and grab a slice of toast from the rack, before heading out to the Reaping alone. In District 2 everyone is jealous of the person selected to be tribute, so I doubt I'll have any company today.

And, sure enough, all of the kids my age glare at me as I walk down the street. It's always like this for the selected tributes; only yesterday, I was laughing and joking with half of them... Oh well, it'll all be worth it. When I win these Games, they'll be signing up for my autograph.

When I eventually arrive at the Reaping Square, the crowd parts for me. Everyone knows who the tributes are (me and this girl called Kivuta Seiswen, who is a year older than me) so they part for us respectfully. I spot Kivuta near the front and shoot her a grin. She returns it, and we both face the front to wait to be Reaped. We've been training partners for a while and, although you can't call us strictly "friends", we get along alright.

The district escort comes onto the stage and begins to talk about the Dark Days, and I listen intently. However, it's not the Dark Days I'm interested in. It's... It's the Games.

Soon enough, she goes over to one of the Reaping balls and fishes around, searching for a name. I smirk to myself. Is it even worth her groping around in there or a meaningless piece of paper? There are _always_ volunteers from District 2.

As soon as she calls out a name, I do what I've always been expected to do. This is for James and Eddie.

"I volunteer!"

**KIVUTA SEISWEN, DISTRICT 2 FEMALE**

"Kivuta, Kyle, Joshua, get your fat arses up before I kick them round the block!" Ah, the dulcet tones of my step-mother. She's like an alarm clock. Sometimes that can be useful, like when I want to wake up and get to training, but it's the Reaping today... And I really want to sleep in...

However, before I can roll over and go back to sleep, as is common with me, a bucket of cold water is thrown unceremoniously over my head. Letting out a shriek, I sit up and stare around blearily for the perpetrator... Then I burst out laughing. Kyle stands by the door, a satisfied smirk on his face, with an empty bucket of water clasped in his hands. Turning my head around, I spot Kyle sitting up, a horrified look on his face as he drips water everywhere. We're triplets, and we've always done everything together... Ate together, gone to school together, trained together... But Kyle enjoys being the troublemaker out of the three of us.

Throwing myself forwards, I catch him round the ankles and rugby tackle him to the floor, straddling his waist with a triumphant laugh. People say I act a lot younger than my age sometimes, and now... now is one of those moments.

He lets out a yell of laughter as I grab a knife from my bedside cabinet and dangle it over his face teasingly, blade pointing towards his face... I let it slip through my fingers a little and he shrieks, before I am caught under the armpits and pulled backwards. Dropping the knife out of shock, it slams to the floor and sticks into the floorboards.

"What would you do if somebody did this in the Games, sis?" Josh says teasingly, and Kyle grins, yanking the knife out of the floorboards and advancing on me with it. I struggle, but it's useless; he has me in an iron grip. Thinking quickly, I attempt to assess the situation.

Josh and Kyle have been hinting at doing this for weeks. And since it's Reaping Day- and the day I volunteer- I guess they've sprung this as a surprise test. Come on, Kiva, you can get your way out of this...

Then, an idea comes to me and I grin. "Well, assuming that it's a boy holding me up, I'd do this..." twisting myself around in Josh's arms, I bring my knee up hard between his legs. With a grunt of pain he drops me, clutching his privates, and I swish around to see Kyle still advancing on me with the knife.

I think fast. He's armed and I'm not... What would I do in this situation? My eyes flit around the room. My trainer Domitius told me that, in order to survive, I must use anything and everything I can as a weapon... Even extremely unorthodox items. And, worst comes to the worst and there is nothing, I am to use my teeth... But I'm not doing an Enobaria and ripping Kyle's throat out... I think that would be taking our horseplay a tad too far.

Ducking to my left, I grab a glass bottle from which my brother was drinking last night, and smash the top off on my bedstead. Running towards him, I raise the now jagged and dangerous bottle up with a fierce war-cry... But he steps out of the way at the last moment, and I go skidding towards the door, crashing into it.

"What on EARTH is going on in here?!" the door opens, and my step-mother, Ginger, walks in. And lets out a gasp of fury, seeing the state of the room. I just sit there blearily, broken-topped beer bottle in one hand, dripping wet...

"Morning, Ginger!" Kyle says cheerfully, being the only dry one out of the three of us. He has the knife behind his back and, aside from his slightly mussed hair, looks innocent. However, the facts that there is water all over our beds, broken glass on the floor, and that Joshua and I are nursing injuries takes away some of his innocence. "Me and Josh were just helping Kiva prepare for the Games..."

The look of total fury on her face is almost comical, but I'm too dazed to laugh. Turning around, I grab a dustpan and brush from the corner and begin to sweep up the smashed glass all over the floor, dropping it into the bin. When I'm eventually done, and Kyle and Josh have managed to dispose of the knife and dry up our beds, Ginger eventually looks appeased.

"You woke up Yumi," she says accusingly, and then points at me. "Kivuta, go and settle her. Now. I'd like to have a word with your brothers about their methods of _preparing _you."

As I scuttle gratefully from the room, I hear them both audibly gulp.

I don't have a problem with settling Yumi down to sleep; she's my one year old half sister, and she's the most adorable little thing you can ever imagine. Since Ginger doesn't like little children very much, I take care of her most of the time.

Stepping into her room, I hear her crying slow down. Eventually it turns into strangled sobs, and when I step over to her and smile down into her bright blue eyes, they stop altogether.

"Hey there, little sister," I say to her, scooping her up. I'm not too good at holding babies, as I'm not really big enough to do so properly, but I try my best. "Hey there, Yumi."

When she eventually falls back asleep, I pop her back into her cot and go upstairs to get changed. Kyle and Josh have apparently been subdued into silence, because they don't even look at me when I go back to put on my Reaping clothes... I'm shivering with excitement. The horseplay from this morning has energised me, and I'm ready to volunteer now... I feel up and ready to go.

Walking downstairs, I slice myself some bread and spread it with thick, cherry preserve, before meeting my brothers to go to the Reaping. They both are still rather miserable looking after their lecture from Ginger, but even their dull mood doesn't get me down. I'm pumped up.

Not about the killing. I'd rather leave that to my more vicious allies, until I really have to, of course. But I enjoy training, and I always have.

We register then mingle into the crowd, and I spot my training partner, Medal. He is volunteering for the Games too, this year. He's a good fighter, but he can be rather arrogant... But then again, so can I. He smiles at me and I smile back; we aren't exactly friends, but we get along. He's not such a bad sort, although his older brother did disgrace the district in the Games a few years back.

He got beaten by a random frizzy haired kid and a little boy who knew a bit about wires. Honestly?

"I volunteer!" That was quick! Medal goes running up to the stage, a pleased look on his face, and shoots the cameras a dashing smile. The district escort seems quite taken with him, and it takes her a few moments to register that the whole district is waiting for her to call out the girls. She blushes.

"Right... erm... Sophi-"

"I volunteer!" a feeling of euphoria runs through me as I walk up to join Medal... And then a feeling of dread. I know, tonight, I shall dream of blood... For a few moments I feel panic running through me: can I kill? Am I a murderer?

No.

But I'm in this now, and there's no backing out... So there's no point complaining about it.


	4. District 3 Reaping

**From now on, I'm only putting up a chapter every other day. Sorry, but it takes me an hour to write a chapter, and every day that's just too much, what with all the stuff I have going on atm.. Yeah :)**

**CANZI LESTAT, DISTRICT 3 FEMALE**

I sit on top of the Justice Building and stare out into space. I've been up here for hours; since the early hours of the morning, I've just been gazing out over District 3. The smog in the air obstructs my vision a little, but I can still see it all... I figured it might be good to see the place for the last time.

Because if I don't volunteer today, then I'm going to be executed. And, honestly, I'd rather take my chances in the Games than be shot in the head.

And who knows? I might not do too badly. The reason that I've gained myself a death sentence is because my older brother and I beat my father to death because he was abusing our mother. It's simple really: he comes home drunk, comes looking for my mother, and we killed him. If he hadn't screamed loud enough to wake the dead, we might even have got away with it.

They let me out of the Justice Building this morning for my probable final day in District 3. I came to an agreement with the Peacekeeper presiding over my case: if I win the Games and come home, my brother and I are cleared of all charges. That's why I need to win this. He's only eleven years old, not even eligible for his first Reaping. We had to do something. If we didn't, he would have killed our mother.

So it was a race, to be honest... But my mother's alright now.

"Canzi!" turning around, I spot my brother, Asa, clambering up the stairs to the roof. He stares at me for a moment, then his face breaks into a smile as he runs towards me and throws himself into my arms. I embrace him for a few moments, before holding him at arms length. I haven't seen him for three weeks, since we were first taken in, and I've missed him a lot. He narrows his eyes at me. "It... it is you?"

"No, it's President Snow," I smirk, and he laughs again. Then, rummaging in his pocket, he pulls out a pack of playing cards... My playing cards. Where did he get them? Snatching them from him, I sort through them, making sure they're all there... I've had them ever since I was little. I have this sort of attention disorder that makes it very difficult for me to be completely still, and I've found shuffling cards constantly gives something for my hands to do. The victor Matthis Elder from our district flicks a lighter on and off, but he burns down his house every few months. I prefer the cards, anyway.

Eventually, I find the one I was looking for and wave it in front of his face. The death card. He bites his lip, but I barely even notice. It's like my hand is complete again.

"Final game?" Pulling an ace out with a flourish, I stick the rest up my sleeve for later use. He rolls his eyes and bats it out of my hand. It floats on the wind away from me and I grab it at the last moment, hissing as it almost hits the breeze and flies away.

"You need to take this more seriously, Canzi," he hisses, in a voice a lot older than his eleven years. He's... a bit of an interesting character, Asa. It was he who thought up the idea of killing our father, and also him who delivered the killing blow. If it was him going into the Hunger Games rather than me, I don't doubt he'd stand more of a chance. "Copper Astridei is going to volunteer, and he's nineteen in a few months!"

I pause at that. Copper is one of the biggest guys in the entire district and, judging on how batshit crazy his older sister was in her Games seven years ago, he'll be pretty lethal. Then, I frown. Wasn't he twelve in the 63rd Games, when he competed?

"He was twelve in the 63rd Games, seven years ago. How does that add up mathematically?" I frown, pulling a cigarette from my pocket and lighting it deftly. The Peacekeepers give them to us in the prison, because they calm us down and stop us rioting. I'm not a huge fan, but since I'll probably be dead in a few weeks, why not indulge myself?

Asa sighs. He's a huge fan of the Games, and loves watching them. He knows every little fact about them: who the Head Gamemaker is and all of that. He's fanatical.

"This year, the Head Gamemaker Falion Marsey has decided to hold the Games a few months earlier because of weather and the type of arena. If they were held at the usual time of the year, a few of the twists wouldn't work or something... So he needs it to be hotter. I'm guessing that means they want the tributes to burn."

I wince, and take the cigarette out of my mouth. Suddenly, I want to be as far away from anything to do with fire as possible. There's a miserable look on his face and, immediately, I feel the urge to comfort him. So I do it in the only way I know how.

"The person who makes me sells me. The person who buys me never uses me. The person who uses me doesn't know they are. What am I?"

A confused expression comes onto his face, and I smirk in satisfaction. "A coffin. And if Copper Astridei comes into the Games with me, he'll be in one."

I'm only humouring him, since Copper would probably be able to sit on me if he wanted to, but I try to keep the smile on my face. Then, I hear footsteps coming up the stairs and a Peacekeeper comes into view, holding a stun gun... Oh, I forgot about that. Apparently, we're classed as "dangerous".

"Come down. The Reaping starts in five minutes." The Peacekeeper says gruffly. Immediately, I feel a flash of horror running through my body and cling to Asa, but I'm pulled away quickly and brought back down to my cell.

I change into my neat Reaping clothes, stuffing my playing cards into my pocket. Then, I take one last, dispassioned look around the cell that has been my room for three weeks and wait to be let out. As soon as the lock clicks open, I burst out. Soon, I'm being escorted by Peacekeepers out to the square. When we get out there, they abandon me; I can't help but be surprised at that. What if I go crazy and start killing everybody?

The district escort comes onto the stage, and begins doing his usual act. Behind him sits this year's mentors: Matthis and Wiress. They both look rather bored with the whole affair, and I can see the telltale glint that shows Matthis is flicking his lighter on and off as usual. There hasn't been a District 3 Victor for seven years and... and I want to be the next. No, I have to be the next. Because if I'm not, Asa will be put to death for saving our mother's life.

But I'm shaking. Fiddling with my pack of cards, I pull out the death card and stare down at it, biting my lip. The district escort is about to call the female's name... I have to do this. If I don't...

"Je-"

"I volunteer as tribute!" it comes out of my mouth like a rush, and I begin shoving my way up to the stage before I'm even done talking. I'm visibly shaking and I know it, but I have to do this. I'll take my one chance.

Because if I don't, my little brother who saved my mother's life by killing our father... will die.

**COPPER ASTRIDEI, DISTRICT 3 MALE**

The spear sinks deep into the wall. The wooden surface is chipped already from years of abuse, but today has left a rather considerable mark. For years I've waited for this day: the day that I volunteer. And I will do it this time. I'm eighteen years old, and I thought last year would be my last Reaping. I wimped out of it and spent a few months slapping myself in the face, wishing that it could have been me in the Games.

The fact that the Games are being held a few months earlier is like a gift from God- a second chance, you could say. Ever since I fucked up on my first Reaping and did not volunteer, I've been regretting my choice. The male tribute from my District won those Games. I remember his face so clearly. That's what makes me so frustrated- if I'd volunteered, somebody else would have won. And maybe, just maybe, my sister wouldn't be dead.

Hah, it's kind of funny that I almost wish I'd died in those Games. Thing is, I rather like being alive. But this is just... this is just a sign. I can imagine Phlox down there ordering the Gamemakers to keep giving me oppurtunities to volunteer until I finally do. Perhaps that's just my own paranoid mind, though.

Living apart from Phlox has changed me a bit. I'm not so... so scared any more. I actually have goals now: getting myself a respectable job in one of the factories and making a good living, then getting married and having children. But I doubt that will happen. And anyway, why put all my training to waste?

Watching Matthis Elder in his Games, you see, gave me some inspiration. I work in the factories part time now, and I steal things. Bomb parts. I don't want to make little alarm clocks like he used to do, oh no. I make bombs.

Sitting on the floor, I grab some of the parts out of the drawers beside the fireplace and begin to fiddle with them, attempting to attach them to my circuit. I'm taking this really seriously: I even went to school for a while and learned how to create basic circuits. The rest I managed to pick up from my apprenticeship at the factories. Some people say I'm doing quite well for myself now, now that Phlox is gone. I'm almost a respected member of society.

It'll be nice to get into the Games. I can abandon the "Respectable Young Apprentice" act for a while. Acting it is rather fun though. And who knows? Maybe someday, I will get married and have children, and forget about my childhood. But first, I need to do what I've been saying I will do for years.

Connecting two wires, I throw myself backwards as there is a loud bang. Cursing under my breath, I watch in slight horror as my weeks of hard work blows itself up, also blasting through my floorboards. There is a shriek from downstairs as the occupants of down below (a couple of old squatters who moved in a few years back) have a hole blown in their ceiling.

Shoving my head through the hole, I shout, "Sorry about that! Experiment went wrong!"

Then, grabbing a chair, I shove it over the spot. I don't need them looking into my room, and I don't think they particularly want me looking down into their place. But I'm angry about the bomb going wrong, and I kick the charred remains. It's very tempting to kick them down the hole, but I think that would be adding insult to injury.

Walking across the room, I wash my face in the sink in the corner, before grabbing my Reaping clothes off the floor and pulling them on. It'd be best to look neat, I think, since I am volunteering this year and I want to look good for the Capitol. Yanking a fine toothed comb through my dark hair, I glance at myself in the cracked mirror. I look... quite good, to be frank. The respectable apprentice who I've been trying to preserve.

I go over to the door of my room and open it, slamming it shut behind me. I would lock it but, honestly, what have I got worth stealing that's not on me? A burnt out, faulty bomb and a sharpened piece of wood? Even Panem's most desperate thief would turn up their nose at a haul that crappy.

The streets are already getting crowded, and people are walking towards the square in front of the Justice Building. As I walk up to get registered, I spot two figures on the roof and frown. Only Peacekeepers overseeing the Reaping go up there... Maybe they're prisoners being executed today, allowed to get their last view of District 3.

As soon as I'm in the crowd, I push my way right to the front. Since I'm definitely volunteering this time, after years of being pathetic and shying out of it, I'm going to do this. I'll show them that I'm not scared. I'll show Phlox, I'll avenge her death.

There is a female volunteer. As I watch her walking up to the stage, I reflect on how young she looks: with black hair, pale skin and gaunt cheeks, she looks rather ill. And only about fourteen... she'll be a meal, surely.

Then, it's the boys turn and I wait, anticipating. But I can feel the familiar shiver of fear that comes with every Reaping... no, come on, Copper. This was meant for you. You have to volunteer.

"I volunteer!"

But when the words leave my mouth, they don't feel right. The way the whole district stares at me, some of them recognising me... I realise I don't like it. My heart begins to beat faster and faster as I take my place next to the girl, who narrows her eyes at me. I glare right back.

Phlox, this is for you.

**Wow, for a jet-fuelled-ferrari-on-crack, I've not been so good at updating recently... Sorry about that. But chapters will be every other day from now on, since I've got some very, very important exams soon. **

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter! Next is D4 and THE RETURN OF SUGAR :)**


	5. District 4 Reaping

**Really enjoyed writing Piper here.. SUGAR RETURNS. YES. For any of you who are not aware of who Sugar is, she is the D4 Escort. Btw. If you do not know who Sugar is... then you have not lived.**

**By the way, something in the Archie POV might upset people... I do not hold any of the views expressed by the bullies in it. However, I have heard the words used against autistic people. Once again, I do not hold their views nor do I encourage them.**

**PIPER CAVENDISH, DISTRICT 4 FEMALE**

The boat rocks idly back and forth in the glimmering waters of District 4. It's a warm, pleasant day, and the early morning sun is beating down on my back as I kneel by the edge of the boat, dangling the nets into the water. For a Reaping Day, it seems far too peaceful- the breeze smells like the sea, and the sun is too bright. Sometimes, I wonder if this is all just an illusion, the Capitol playing a trick on the lot of us to make us peaceful and benign.

"Lean back a bit, you're tipping the boat!" Bryan, my fourteen year old brother, shouts from his side of the boat. He's a bit of a scrawny thing, so I guess my leaning against my side is making our boat slightly likely to tip. Still, I curse him as I feel the weight in the nets diminishing. The fish don't like loud noises.

Rolling my eyes at him, I haul up the nets anyway and swear under my breath. There are only seven or so little fish squirming around in there. What a crap haul.

"This is why I don't take you fishing so often," I laugh at him, as he pulls out two wooden oars from under the seats and begins rowing us back towards the beach. There are a lot of other little boats out here on the water, and some larger boats too, but Bryan and I are out here entirely for our own profit. Technically we aren't allowed, but most people in the district do it. Since we're a Career district, I don't doubt the Capitol are willing to give us "perks".

I prefer fishing with a trident, but it takes far too long. I've trained with a trident all my life: out in the shallows, and in the Training Academy alike. It's my favourite weapon. Finnick Odair, a gorgeous Victor from my district, used a net and trident in his Games... That's what I'd do, if I went into the Games.

Taking the fish one by one, I smash their heads against the side of the boat and pile them up in a bucket, shoving a lid over it before we get onto land. As we dock, Bryan jumps onto the sand, pulling a chain with him, and attaches our boat to a pole. Locking it round a few times, he nods his head at me and I jump out to join him, carrying the bucket of fish cheerily. We'll be able to trade some of them at the Black Market in the backstreets, although our father forbids us from going there. Our mother always encouraged it... Before she died.

My grin falters a bit as we head into town. My mother was called Aria, and she was... well... a bit of a rebellious soul. She had a lot to say about the Capitol, and none of it was good. I am descended from some of the original rebel leaders of District 4 during the Dark Days, and the Capitol has kind of been hanging that over my family's head ever since. My mother got caught, eventually, plotting to start an uprising in our district. I watched her, as well as the other ringleaders, getting executed by firing squad on the TV.

She used to talk about how District 13 is still up and going, how her grandmother had told her that it was, that it was still going on underground... But then again, she talked a lot about stuff like that.

"Hey, Bryan! Who's that hot piece of ass you're with?!" the sound of jeering hits my ears and I turn around, suddenly. Bryan goes bright pink and makes to carry on walking, but I stop him, putting a hand on his shoulder. A group of boys who I recognise from his class at the Training Academy are walking towards us, hands in their pockets. Nobody gets worried about being Reaped in this district, as there is almost always a volunteer.

"I can't actually believe it! Oh my God, Bryan, I never thought you'd actually get with a girl! Is it a pity date?"

Soon they're surrounding us; most of them are smaller than me, which is good. I'm tall for my sixteen years, and I tower over both Bryan and the majority of these idiots... Good. I can sense a confrontation coming.

"She's my sister..." Bryan mumbles, embarrassed. I find myself gritting my teeth. So these are the kids who beat him up on the way home a few nights ago, are they? They're all ogling me now, trying to stare down my top...

"Aww, ain't that cute. Should have known Bryan couldn't get a date." the biggest boy says, squaring up to him. A flash of rage fills me, and I grab him by the arm, pulling him round to face me.

"Take it back, asshole. You don't talk to my brother like that." I hiss, glaring down at him. Oh I do love being tall; I can look down at people so effectively. He smirks at me, clearly not seeing the threat.

Winking at me, he replies, "Watch me, bitch. What're you going to do about it?"

Boiling with rage, I show him exactly what I'm going to do it. Bringing back the fist not holding the bucket, I smash it into his jaw. He falls backwards with a yell of shock, and a couple of his friends grab him. He is spitting with rage now, his floppy auburn hair askew all over his face.

"You better run before I forget I can't hit a girl!" he threatens, nursing his jaw. I can barely stop myself laughing at his pathetic threat, and start towards him again, eager to continue the fight, but Bryan grabs my arm. He pulls me away from the scuffle and towards the market, although I complain at him the whole way.

We barter most of the fish off, and walk back home with our pockets jingling with coins. I tell him we should stop to get some food for tonight's dinner, in celebration of not being Reaped yet again, and we stop at the food stand to buy some shellfish. He's just picking out the best oysters, when I find myself yanked into an alley.

With a hiss of shock I ball my fists and wriggle out of the person's grasp. However, I find myself face to face with a middle aged man, with a military haircut and dark eyes. Seeing my expression of fear, he shakes his head.

"You're Aria Cavendish's little girl... right?" he says, and his voice is low and urgent. For a few moments I just stare at him, totally bewildered. What is going on? Seeing my expression, he rolls his eyes and grabs my arm again, tightening his fingers on my wrist. "You're Piper Cavendish?"

For a few more seconds I just stare at him. Then, I nod, slowly. What is he talking about?

A look of anguish quickly comes onto his face, and he bites his lip. He gives me a very apologetic look, before saying in a quiet voice, "Listen quickly. The Capitol still wants revenge on your family for what you did. For what your mother did. And today, every single name in the female Reaping Ball has your name on it."

My eyes open wide in fear as he lets go of my arm and gives me a wretched look. My mouth gapes and I knot my hands together, unsure of what to do. Is this some kind of cruel joke? Who is this man? No, I don't believe it. He's just some asshole trying to play a trick on me. So I walk out of the alley to join Bryan without saying a word.

We go home and drop off the oysters, and get changed into our Reaping clothes, before heading out to the town square. I'm dreading this... Heart beating fast, I stand with all of the other sixteen year old girls as we wait for Sugar, the district escort, to come onstage. That man must've been lying... To rig an election?

But then again, the Capitol is fucking depraved. They'd probably do something like that.

There is a round of applause as Sugar waddles onstage. I swear she's got even fatter, and there is a wide grin on her face. Holding out her arms, she waits for our applause to end before saying in ringing tones,

"My babies! I've missed you in the Capitol, I really have... I missed my little fishy babies. Are y'all ready to be r-r-r-r-r-Reaped?!"

Several people wolf-whistle. She walks over to the female Reaping ball, and I grit my teeth, shutting my eyes... This is the moment when I find out whether that man was lying or telling the truth...

"Piper Cavendish! Girl, get 'yo ass up here!"

My eyes snap open.

**ARCHIE SUMMERS, DISTRICT 4 MALE**

I wake up as the sunlight begins to spill through my window and into the room. Lazily, I yawn and stretch my arms out, before kicking the blankets off and flopping to the ground. It's Reaping Day, and my last chance to get in some training, so I'd better start now... My muscles are aching from all of the last minute practise last night, and I don't want to have sore joints in the Capitol. I'm something of a fitness freak, but it pays off

Extending my arms, I begin my morning push ups. Fifty in the morning, fifty in the evening; being fit is the sign of a true actor. Although I don't admit to most people that I'm interested in theatre, since I'd get the shit kicked out of me if I did, it's been something of a passion ever since I was a little kid. My mother, a socialite, had a lot of interesting people round our house, and I got to meet some actors... And they're interesting people. I want to be like them.

However, training for the Hunger Games has to come first. Especially since I'm supposed to be volunteering this year.

"Hey-y little brother!" I hear my bedroom door opening, and look up to see my older brother Patrick walking into the room, a grin on his face. He holds out a tray of food to me, and I extend one arm to grab it, awkwardly manoeuvring it to the floor beside me. Patrick laughs. "Dare you to try and eat it still doing the push ups..."

Smirking, I take a slice of bread from the tray and bring it to my mouth, clamping it between my jaws. Throwing my head back, I manage to take a tiny bite as most of it falls to the ground between my hands.

Forty nine... fifty!

Flopping to the ground, I breathe quickly for a few moments before taking the bread and eating it properly, taking large bites. As soon as I finish, I take another slice and finish that, and then take a handful of berries and eat those too. I've got quite an appetite.

I swig from a glass of water, before getting to my feet and wiping some of the sweat off my forehead. Patrick shoots me a rueful smile. "You know, I'm going to miss playing football with you," he says, grabbing the tray. "We're a fucking lethal forward pair..."

"You'll have to find somebody else, Pat. Anyway, I might just win." I tease, rolling my shoulders back to sort out the muscles. Pulling myself into a slightly painful stretch, I watch him walk out of the room, laughing to himself.

Patrick isn't... wasn't... my only older brother. I've just turned sixteen, and I had another brother who was two years older than me. He was called Aly. He was... kind of funny. Not normal. Everyone in the district noticed it, and people used to whisper about him a lot. He was that weird kid who had issues, who was socially awkward and got stressed out when people went too near him...

The district healer called him "autistic". I don't really know what that means, but my parents told me that means he's special. I wish they hadn't said that, because a group of bullies at school picked up on it and began to harass him. One day they were shouting at him about something and it just got too much, and he curled up on the floor and started crying. I remember being there and hearing the bullies calling him "Retard" and "Spaz" and other things like that...

Then one of them tried to touch him and he lashed out. They went crazy at that, and started really hurting him. I was trying to stop them, but by the time I'd knocked two of them out and sent one away crying, it was too late. He was bleeding out and... and pretty irretrievable by that point.

Shaking my head to myself at the memory, I pick up my weights from by the door and begin to lift them. How can people be so cruel? I don't even fathom it. In the Games, I'll probably have to kill people. But I'm not cruel. I will make it as quick as I can.

After I finish lifting weights, I head to the bathroom and clean myself up. Showering the morning's sweat off me, I lather myself all over with soap, and even wash my hair. Once finished, I dress myself in my Reaping clothes, before heading downstairs to say goodbye to my family.

My mother and father are at the kitchen table, eating their breakfast and chatting. Patrick is leaning against a wall and sipping a cup of coffee, and they all turn to me as I walk in. My mum stands up and comes over to me, before hugging me tight.

"My little boy, going into the Games!" she says, and I can practically hear the excitement in her voice. She knows that I'm ready for this- I've been a fighter all of my life. And honestly, I can't wait to go in and show all of Panem what I've got.

"It's crazy, isn't it?" Patrick grins, leaning over to hug me too. My father gives me a warm smile, and pats my back gently. He's not a man of many words, but he cares about me all the same. My mother hugs me one last time, extracting several promises out of me, before I'm out of the house and walking towards the Justice Building.

I'm just walking down the street, when a figure a little shorter than me joins my side and shoots me a wide smirk, that I quickly return. Paul has been my best friend since I was eleven and helped him out in a fight at school- that seems to be what I'm best at. Getting into fights.

He's an aspiring actor too, and together we've put on quite a few productions. Since he's more of an intellectual, he writes the scripts, and we both perform them. We've never had a proper audience yet, but some of the plays we've made up are really good.

"Ready to be r-r-r-r-r-Reaped?!" he hollers, doing a rather good impression of our district escort, Sugar. I burst out laughing and he winks at me cheerfully, pretending to waddle up the street. He's attracting quite a bit of attention, although most of it is good natured. And anyway, he loves the attention, bless him.

"Personally, I think Sugar is a freaking goddess," Paul chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows at me. I roll my eyes and smile apologetically at some of the onlookers- he's even more socially inept and awkward than I am. "Fine piece of ass right there..."

Shaking my head, I try and walk away and pretend I'm not with him. He can be very embarrassing in public. Last year, at the Reaping, he wolf-whistled so loudly at Sugar that she actually noticed. He's plainly ridiculous, but he can be good company when he wants to be. Although I can definitely see why he gets beaten up so much.

Turning the corner into the square, we register ourselves, before pushing our way into the crowd of boys. I'm almost shivering with excitement- it's my turn to volunteer, after all this time! Plus, I can only imagine what Paul is going to do this year when it comes to Sugar... After all this time, I'm not even sure he's joking any more. It's just gone too far.

She waddles onstage, and he lets out an extremely loud wolf-whistle. Most people burst into applause, and she begins her usual, plainly ridiculous speech. Eventually, she pulls up a girl called Piper, who looks shocked. She's in my class from the Academy... Really good with a trident. We didn't train together much since I use a bow and arrow, but I recognise her. She wasn't up to volunteer...?

Piper looks oddly shocked, and I can't work out why.

"Now for the boys..."

Sugar fishes around in the boys Reaping Ball for a second, before pulling out a name. Clearing her throat a few times, she calls out in a sing-song voice, "Frodo-"

"I volunteer!"

Grinning, I practically run up to the stage and take my side beside Piper and Sugar. As Piper looks at me her eyes glint with recognition, and I give her a small smile.

I hope I don't have to kill her.


	6. District 5 Reaping

**God, I've really fucked up... I got two submissions for the D5 male, and I told both of them they could have it, then promptly forgot who they were from and I now cannot find the pm... So I chose the one that came first in the end, and apologies to whoever missed out. **

**NEON SKYLARK, DISTRICT 5 MALE**

"Damn it..." I narrow my eyes at the piece of paper in front of me, tapping my pencil on the wooden desk. A long list of mathematical equations; the sort of thing that some people would call impossible. As a fifteen year old boy from District 5, a lot of things that kids from other districts might find impossible, I can do. Intellectual things, anyway.

Gritting my teeth, I throw the pen down on the table and get to my feet, yawning. I can smell the scent of fresh blood that is always apparent in my house: my father is the district butcher, and is very fond of his profession. Although my mother is a typical District 5 scientist, he has never gone in for any of that. He wants me to follow in his footsteps, but I'd much rather work in the labs. I want to make muttations.

I've been studying all night. I start my apprenticeship at a lab in a few months, when I turn sixteen, and it's important I get the grades. Otherwise my father will use it as an excuse to keep me home and have me chop up animal carcasses all day. Sometimes, when I'm angry, it's fun to chop up corpses. But currently, I've got to work on my essays.

Pulling off my pyjamas, I grab a shirt and pants and pull them on. It's the Reaping today, so I might as well look my best. I grab a comb from from the sideboard and pull it through my shoulder length black hair. At least... everyone says it's black. I'm colourblind, always have been. That's my flaw, and that's the reason I might not get that job in the labs. I can't see chemical reactions if it's a colour changer, making me a lot less useful than some other applicants.

My eyes... they look funny too. They're a really horrible milky colour, making me look like there's no pigment in them. I keep them covered with a fringe so they can't be seen... I loathe my eyes. They make me weak.

After I'm changed, I walk through into the kitchen. We have four small rooms in our flat above the butchers and, with only me and my parents around, that's all we need. My father is standing by the table, chopping up some bacon for our breakfast. All we eat is meat, and I can't say I'm complaining. He smirks at me.

"Morning, Neon," he says shortly, in his gruff voice. "Been _studying_ again?" my father says the word 'studying' like other people might say 'poison' or 'plague'. Since I'm his only son I suppose he wants me to join the family business, but I want to do more than that. I want to be an inventor.

"All night. I really want to get that job," I reply, and he rolls his eyes. I smirk right back at him, before grabbing a slice of bacon from the pan and eating it with relish. "Reaping today. Excited?"

Without answering, dad picks up several boxes and shoves them into my extended arms. My job, currently, is to be a door to door salesmen to the rich: we make more money if I go door to door. Some of the fatcats in District 5 don't like to leave their houses... So I bring the meat to them and they pay me plenty.

Although I don't get to keep the money, the feeling of having it in my pocket for a few minutes is very satisfying.

With the boxes piled haphazardly on top of my arms, I walk out of the front door and stumble down the stairs, almost tripping countless times. When I eventually get out of the door, I grab the small cart from the porch and place the boxes carefully on it. Then, I begin to walk down the busy streets. It's mid morning, so most people are up and about. There's the vague feeling of anxiety in the air but I ignore it. Being a butcher for most of my life has given me a skill with knives, and I'm smart. So who knows? Even if I'm not the biggest, I could even do okay.

And, if the worst comes to the worst, I'd just stab myself and be done with it.

Walking up to the door of the Mayor's house, I knock with one hand, keeping hold of the cart. I have a knife in my belt, just in case. Most in this district wouldn't say no to some free meat.

The mayor's daughter, Adrienne, answers the door and smiles when she sees me. She's has a few pounds to spare, with a sweet face and dimples in her cheeks. We're in the same class at school.

"Did my father order something?" she says cheerfully, crossing her arms. I nod and, reaching backwards, pull out a box marked Mayor Calloway on it. Giving it to her, I hold out my hand for my pay, extending my fingers. She reaches behind her and pulls a couple of coins from a box on the mantlepiece and drops them into my hand. After counting them I continue on my way.

I sell a few more boxes before heading home and shoving the remaining meats in the store cupboard. Then, I wash my hands and head back to the town square for the Reaping. Oh God, I'm going to have to deal with Calvin, the District Escort... But then again, so is the entire district.

I'm going to use several words from my favourite book to describe him, so not to seem too rude. Calvin is a corpulent, repugnant, nauseating, reprobate cad. That sounds quite pretty doesn't it? Takes the edge off a bit.

Walking down the street, I am pulled into a group of boys I know a little bit from school. Generally I stay on my own, but there are some situations that being alone is not an option. I've never liked to stick out, so I stay with the townies. Adrienne smiles at me again.

She always smiles when I'm around, which is strange because no other girls do that. I don't really know why she does, so I suppose I'm just her very good friend.

When we eventually get to the square, the corpulent-repugnant-nauseating-reprobate-cad is already there and onstage, poncing around as usual. He is talking to one of our mentors, a woman named Blue, and her eyes are firmly on her bust. God, he's vile.

He eventually notices that we've all arrived, and turns around to welcome us. I glare at him, squaring my jaw. Calvin has a habit of sleeping with the female, and occasionally male, tributes from District 5 in exchange for favours in the arena. I feel very sorry for the tributes.

After talking about the Dark Days and the Capitol for a few minutes, he walks over to the male's Reaping bowl and I clench my fists. Come on, Neon, you aren't going to get picked... You're just the butcher's boy, the boy who wants to work in the labs. Not a tribute.

"Neon Skylark!"

Well... that was... unexpected. But however much I feel like I cannot do it, I feel a strength coming into my being. A fire building in me as the others stare at me, knowing that I'm going to die. Well... well what if I don't? This boy Sceptor from the 63rd Hunger Games, he worked in the Slaughterhouses of District 10. He had similar experiences to me, so... So maybe I can be like him.

So as I go up and stand beside Calvin, I hold my head high and stare at the cameras. I will not cry.

**KAREN NOCHEZ, DISTRICT 5 FEMALE**

I am awoken by the sound of a train whizzing past my window. My house is right next to the District 5 train station in the centre of town, and the regular mail train is a fantastic alarm clock. The mayor's daughter Adrienne, who I know from school, has a Matthis Elder Custom-Made alarm clock, but I've never been able to afford something like that. My parents would say it's wasteful.

Getting to my feet, I stretch out my arms before stuffing my feet into a pair of worn slippers and walking out into the hallway. I can smell the scent of fresh coffee and my nose leads me to the kitchen, where my parents are sitting with my younger sister Maddie, comforting her. She's crying, her head in her hands, and they are either side of her, patting her back.

I feel a twinge of pity. It's her first Reaping today, since she's just turned twelve, and she's been talking about it non-stop for the last few weeks. She's been having nightmares about being Reaped and killed. I'm seventeen now, with only two more Reapings, so I'm not very worried. After all, I'm already more than half done and I didn't take tesserae.

"Maddie, sweetie, you aren't getting Reaped," I walk forwards and put an arm around her shoulders, holding her against my front. She sobs for a few moments, before I pull away a little awkwardly. "You've got one entry. That's nothing, alright?"

For a few seconds she just stares at me imploringly, before she forces a smile onto her face and nods. My mother begins to coddle her once more and I grab a mug of coffee, downing it. For Reaping day I'd much rather drown my sorrows in something a little stronger than "the demon bean", but it's not legal for me to do so until I'm eighteen. But drinking will have lost the novelty by that point.

Then, after finishing my drink, I head back upstairs to get dressed. Picking out my smartest dress from the cupboard, I pull it over my head and head into the bathroom to wash my face. I had a long, luxurious bath last night so there's no need to do more than wash the night's dust off. Then, I head back downstairs to say goodbye to my parents. Since I'm going to the Reaping with my friends, I won't see them until after.

I hug my mother and sister goodbye, before turning to my father. He is smiling at me a little watery eyed, and puts both of his hands on my shoulders.

"Wow, I really do have the most beautiful daughters in the whole world," he says, looking at me and Maddie. I have two older sisters as well, but they don't live with us any more because they're adults. Asha, who works at the train station, and Tanya who does odd jobs around the labs.

I grin and shrug him off, a little embarrassed. He babies me and my sister a little, as well as Tanya and Asha, because he loves children.

After hugging him goodbye, I walk out of the door to meet my friends. We always meet at the train station; it's our main hang-out. There are a couple of other groups who hang out there too, and they'll occasionally harass us... Well, one of us. My best friend Stephanie, who is fifteen, is blind and they especially enjoy tormenting her.

I spot the three of them by the station wall, surrounded by a group of other kids and immediately clasp my fists. Shit. Walking towards them, I narrow my eyes and push through the group to the middle where I barely stop myself hissing in anger. Two of them are standing there, holding Stephanie's bag and throwing it to each other, laughing as she blindly tries to grab it. Max and Taran, my other two best friends, are being held by the arms by several large boys. Max has a black eye and Taran an impressive fat lip.

Snatching the bag up, I feel a hot burst of rage in me and turn round to one of the bullies, shoving him in the chest, hard. Not expecting the attack, he falls backwards with a yell, sprawling on the pavement. Clutching the bag, I glare challengingly at the rest of them.

"She's blind, you assholes!" I snarl, passing the bag back to her and squaring my shoulders for a fight. I never come out of these fights unscathed, but it's disgusting that these bastards are going to take advantage of a blind girl. And I will not let it happen.

One of the others, a large boy with blond hair, shoves me in the stomach. "Don't call me an asshole, you fat whore." he spits, glaring down at me. His friend, who was on the floor, gets to his feet with a look of fury and humiliation on his face. A couple of his lackeys snigger.

"You bitch!" the ringleader shouts, advancing on me. Without backing away, I swing my fist towards his throat in an attempt to knock him to oblivion, but he catches my fist just in time and crushes it in his own large paw. Shouting a swearword, I knee him in the privates hard, before bringing my other fist back to hit the top of his head. It connects and he slams to the floor. Clutching my hand, I kick him hard in the face before grabbing Stephanie's hand and running. The boys can take care of themselves, but I need to get out of there.

Eventually, after we've got away from the sound of shouting and are in the square, I lean over, breathing hard. Stephanie frowns at where I am, feeling the air in an attempt to find me. Grabbing her hand, I squeeze it.

"Hey. Sorry it had to end like that. Ready to go to the Reaping?"

She grins a little ruefully and nods, running a hand through her dark hair. "Yeah. Are Max and Taran still back there?" I nod but then, remembering she can't see me, answer vocally.

"Yep."

We walk to the Reaping, me guiding her along. When we finally get there, I discover that the Reaping has already begun... a sick feeling comes into my stomach as we quickly register and I pull her to the girl's side. She stays with me and the seventeen year olds, since I'm not going to let her go on her own. Some people say I'm overly protective of her, but I just care. Is that so bad?

Calvin comes onstage and does his usual leering at the girls, before he starts with the boys... A boy called Neon who I vaguely know goes up. His father is the butcher, and he's delivered to my house a couple of times. He's a bit... well... strange. But he'll do alright. Maybe he's not a winner, but I don't think he'll go down without a fight, since he's big and quite strong.

"Stephanie Angelis!" Calvin calls, and immediately I feel Stephanie's hand stiffen in mine. Oh my God... Stephanie. Without thinking, all of my feelings rush to my brain and, dropping her hand, I shout as loud as I can,

"I volunteer as tribute!"

It's only when I'm standing beside Neon and shaking his strong hand that I realise what I've got myself in for.


	7. District 6 Reaping

**LEO ADESSI, DISTRICT 6 MALE**

The sound of music comes over the stereo, and a wide grin comes onto my face. My favourite song, Highway to Hell, is bursting through the speakers, filling the garage with the sound of harsh guitars and a tough, gravelly voice. My older brother Danny, who was a previous Victor in the Games (and one of the only District 6 Victors), used to collect old records like this as a hobby. Since he had money to burn, he'd go to the Capitol and buy them at strange markets... Then, after he died four years ago, they were passed on to me.

Getting up, I walk over to my toolbox and sort through the numerous motorbike parts. My job in this district is to deliver letters to Peacekeepers and the like, and I was awarded a motorbike by the Mayor a year ago for my services. It was pretty old and beat up back then, but I work on it in my spare time.

Then, I remember something. Shit! It's the Reaping! Swearing under my breath, I grab my bike by the handlebars and walk it out of the garage. Then, I jump up to grab the garage door and slam it shut, swinging down with it. Leaning against it, I click the latch, before turning around and mounting the bike. Kicking it off it's stand, I rest both feet on the ground as I rifle through my bag, searching for the letters I have to deliver today.

Since there's always the chance that I'll be Reaped, I'm going to need to get these out before the clock strikes one and the Reaping begins. Preferably earlier, since I don't want to look like a dirty urchin on camera. It's eleven thirty now... Okay, so I've got about an hour. That isn't so bad. If I'd been in this situation before I got the bike, I'd be screwed. And I'm the fastest runner in the whole district.

I swing the bag round onto my back, before revving the engine and setting off at speed. Almost flattening an old woman hobbling down the street, I get onto the dirt road and press the bike to go as fast as it can.

"Maniac!" the old woman shrieks after me, but I ignore her. A maniac I might be, but if I don't get to the Mayor's house in time to deliver his post, he'll have my hide. Grinning to myself as the wind whips through my shaggy blond hair, I spin so fast around a corner that I almost hit the ground. Suppressing the urge to whoop, I skid to a halt beside the Mayor's house and kick the stand up.

Running a hand through my hair to neaten it up a bit, I rifle in my bag for the package that has his name on it. Mayor Harrington, the man in charge of District 6. Well, as charge as you can be without being the President or Head Peacekeeper, I suppose. He isn't a bad guy, and he quite likes me. After years of delivering his letters and packages, he's grown quite fond of me, and has even invited me in a few times.

That's how I met his kids. There's Reggie, who is nineteen and is one of my closest friends and... and his daughter Mary. Who was my girlfriend up until about three or four weeks ago. Hopefully she'll be too busy getting ready for the Reaping to come to the door, or I'm going to be faced with a very awkward situation. Shit...

I rap my knuckles against the door and step back, waiting. There is the sound of footsteps inside the hallway, and then the door opens. It's Reggie. Grinning with relief, I hand the parcel over and he takes it cheerfully. Since he's nineteen, he doesn't really have to worry about being Reaped anymore.

"Hey," he says, and looks me up and down a little disapprovingly. We've always lived in two different words: he's the Mayor's son, used to a privileged life, and I'm the kid who runs packages around for pittance. Although we get along well enough, he's always been kind of naïve about the way I live. "How's life?"

"Not so bad," Standing awkwardly in my smoke-stained clothes with my messy hair, I feel fairly insignificant compared to him. He's immaculately dressed, with his straight brown hair combed. Reggie's roguish grin is the only thing that marks him out from the other rich, polished kids in this district. "But I am pretty nervous about the Reaping today." I admit, as Reggie is joined by his sister. Damn it... Could this day get any worse?

"Reggie, you better-" Mary notices me and a cool expression comes onto her face. She leans back a bit, and I stare at the ground awkwardly. "Oh, it's you, Leo. Anyway, dad says you have to come back in, Reggie."

He laughs and rolls his eyes at me, before turning around. "See you later, Leo." And with that, he shuts the door behind him, leaving me out in the cold. Muttering some rather choice words under my breath, I turn around to go back to my bike, but the door is opened again. Turning around, I spot Reggie standing there again with a book in his hand.

"Sorry, I completely forgot. You wanted to borrow this last time you came over-" he hands me the book and I take it, admiring the front cover. His father has an incredible collection of books from before the Dark Days, and I've always enjoyed reading them. Especially the murder-mysteries and detective stories. I love the idea of tracking down criminals for a living, solving murders and that sort of thing... But I'm always just going to be the delivery-boy. And to be honest, as long as I can keep my bike, I'm good with that.

Smiling at him, I walk back to my bike and rev it up, putting the book carefully in my bag before zooming off back home. I can deliver the rest after the Reaping, but the Mayor is high on my priority list.

I eventually reach the tenement where I live, and park my bike outside, locking it to a post. I wouldn't put it past some desperate thief to steal it.

I make my way up the stairs, then unlock the door to my apartment. First I wash my face in the grubby basin in the corner, and then I get changed into my Reaping clothes. Finally, once I'm done, I step outside and begin to make the journey to the Justice Building for the Reaping. I'll walk, just so I don't have to draw attention to myself by driving in on a motorbike.

Following the crowds of people, I get there just as the District escort begins his long speech about the Capitol and the Dark Days. It's rather dull, and I find myself getting intensely interested in a cloud resembling a dog before I am shocked back into listening as a name is called.

"Leo Adessi!"

Oh... Oh... Wait, what? My face is a mask of shock, as I simply stand there, stunned. I hadn't even considered the fact that... I hadn't even thought about it. It would just be a chore for today that would finish and I'd go home. But I'm never going home.

Walking up to the stage, I stand there, shocked then... Then it hits me. I'm going to the Hunger Games, and I'm going to have to do this properly. So I force a smile onto my face; smiling at the cameras and squaring my shoulders. Because the only way I'm going to survive this, since I only know the basics of using a knife, I'm going to need sponsors. And I will have to keep running.

**JAYLIN "JAY" HEARN, DISTRICT 6 FEMALE**

"Pink car, no returns."

"Damn you, Peter!"

Every year, on the morning of Reaping Day, this is what always happens. It's something of a tradition now, after four Reapings already, and we've never missed it. It cannot be done any other time of the year, because I don't know a soul in District 6 who owns a pink car. It only works when Capitol people come to the district, and that is rare in itself... Apart from on Reaping Day, of course.

Since there's not much else to do on the day where we can't go to school, we entertain ourselves by sitting by the station and counting the cars emerging from the train. I personally don't understand why the Capitol party bothers driving cars onto their trains just so they don't have to walk through the district, but they insist. But anyhow, there's always a crowd of people hanging out by the station, playing the renowned game "Pink Car".

Peter punches me on the arm, grinning, and I shoot him a look. He usually lets me win (either that or he has terrible eyesight), but this year he's been shouting them out the millisecond they emerge from the train.

"Stupid ginger..." I mutter under my breath, but I laugh anyway, rubbing the sore spot on my arm. Peter has been my best friend ever since we were little children, mostly because he rarely shuts up. I can never deal with awkward silences, and have embarrassed myself multiple times by trying to fill them with the randomest topics. Ever asked a Peacekeeper about their favourite cake filling whilst waiting to be handed your tesserae? I have.

Another pink car pulls out behind a gaudy orange one and, quick as a wink, Peter calls, "Pink car, no returns!"

He punches me in the arm again and I groan. The spot is beginning to get very sore from the amount of times he's punched it, and I'm almost certain I'll be getting a bruise. The worst part is that the loser of Pink Car has to wear short-sleeved shirts for a month, showing their shame to the whole district. Sure it may seem like a joke, but it's a pretty renowned game in this district.

"How does it feel to be losing?" Peter teases, and I shove him, scowling. I _hate _losing, and, to be honest, I've still got a chance to beat him. There are still plenty of camera crews to go, and I've never lost this game before.

"I'm not losing," I reply, a grin sliding onto my face. "There's still plenty of pink cars in there... Pink car, no returns!"

Shooting it out as a long pink car slides out of the train, I bring back my fist and punch him as hard as I can in the arm. He grunts in pain, and we both burst out laughing. I've been called a tomboy before; it's better than my previous nickname, though. My previous nickname was "That weird wannabe ginger kid".

It's true, in a way. I was extremely strange, and I still have the desire to have red hair. There are a lot of brown haired people in this district, like myself, and Peter is one of the only ones here to be a red-head. People notice him for it and he stands out in the crowd. I used to be quite open about it, and that was a bust.

"Jay, you're mental," Peter says, rubbing his arm with a look of amusement in his eyes. I grin back at him. It has been said before that I'm mental, but I'm just boisterous. Enjoying play-fighting is different from being a crazed serial killer... but then again, try to tell that to all of the girls in this district. Being a sixteen year old girl, all I should be interested in is boys, sex, and clothes.

Well, here is what I have to say to that: I can't afford posh clothes, I've never been interested in a boy, and I only discovered what sex was a few months ago. Call me naïve (I kind of am...), but when you're struggling to stay alive every day, you leave that sort of thing to the rich. Perhaps someday if my wish comes true, I will marry a loaded Capitol citizen and live my life in the lap of luxury. But I doubt that's going to happen, so I'm just going to get on with things.

"Shall we call it a game and say I won then?" I tease, as the train pulls away from the station. Peter rolls his eyes at me as we begin to walk away, hands in pockets. Most people think that I'm going to end up married to Peter, but I've never thought of him that way. Or any boy, really. I'm sure it'll happen someday, it just hasn't happened yet.

"I won, bitch," he smirks, and I punch him again, exactly on the sore spot. He howls in pain and reels to the side, before bursting into peals of laughter. I keep walking, a proud grin on my face. He is one of the biggest boys in the district and if anyone apart from me even touched him, he'd send them to hospital. I love the fact that I can get away with doing whatever I want to him, and he just treats me like "One of the Boys".

We eventually reach my house and I wave him goodbye. He keeps walking; he lives a lot further into the winding slum than myself. I live on the outskirts with my mother, father and younger sister Thalia, and we generally do alright. Of course, we aren't as rich as any of the town kids, but we're better off than the people who live deeper in the slum like Peter.

Slipping through into the kitchen, I walk over to the stove and nab some unidentified meat out of the pan. After finishing it, I take another slice, and another. I must have a very high metabolism, because I manage to remain looking like a stick even though I'm a total glutton. My mother shakes her head and says it won't last forever... so I take advantage while it lasts.

"Mum, Jay's being a pig and eating all the food again!" Thalia whines, and I shoot her a look. She's only eleven years old, but she's already a master of the art of pissing me off. I take another slice and eat it slowly and deliberately in front of her, before walking through into the bathroom and slamming the door. I bathe quickly in a tub full of warm water, before making the naked sprint through into me and Thalia's shared room. She squeaks as I run in completely in the nude, but I quickly grab a long shirt and pull it on, covering myself up.

I dress quickly, before hugging my parents goodbye and running out of the house. I said I'd meet Peter at the Justice Building, and my bath has made me late. Sprinting through the streets, I straighten up my skirt as I run, and accidentally flash a group of middle aged men. Swearing under my breath, I skid to a halt in front of the registration desk where Peter is waiting. Although he looks nervous and uncomfortable, he laughs at my red face.

"Come on, trouble," he says, and I register, before we walk together into the square. The district escort is already on the stage, and most people are here already. I hug Peter goodbye, before setting off to stand by the girls.

A boy is called: I don't recognise him. His name is Leo Adessi, and he looks about my age, with shaggy blond hair. He looks rather stunned as he makes his way up, but begins playing to the cameras the second he gets onstage.

Clenching my fists, I wait for the girl's name to be called. Please... please... My heart beats faster and faster as the district escort fishes around in the Reaping bowl, searching for a name... Then, as it is called, the world seems to pause around me.

"Jaylin Hearn!"

Me. It's... it's me.


	8. District 7 Reaping

**JARED OAKWOOD, DISTRICT 7 MALE**

The axe sinks into the thick bark of the tree, sending vibrations up my arm with the force it was sent. I stand still for a second, breathing hard, before slowly bringing it back... Then, I send it crashing into the trunk again. The tree groans as it begins to topple from my blows; I've been working on it for half an hour or so. I get things done a lot faster than most of the other lumberjacks, because I don't talk as I work.

I just get... I don't know... nervous about talking to people. People look at me with my broad shoulders and muscles and think I'm one of those boys who gets whatever they want with just a wink of their eye. But I don't have that charisma.

To put it simply, I'm a mouse in the body of a gorilla.

Swinging the axe into the trunk one last time, I watch as it crashes to the ground, making a path through the branches of the other trees in this huge forest. A couple of the other workers stop and lean on their axes to watch it fall, and one woman even whistles, impressed. As a bunch of them flock up to pick up the huge log, and start hoisting it towards the lumber camp nearby before I can even move a muscle.

"Nice one, Jared." says the same woman who whistled earlier, shooting me a grin. I nod back, giving her a small smile, before tucking my axe into my belt and beginning to head back to the town. I've been out here since early in the morning, and I need to get back in time for the Reaping. I also need to pick up my money from the lumber camp, since my mother and I are almost out of food.

When I reach the camp, I go to find the man in charge. His name is Hollow, and he's not so bad, if a little gruff. He's never very happy, since all three of his children have died in the Hunger Games over the years. His daughter Katara died in the 63rd, but she made it very far in. She died on the final day at the hands of the monstrous boy from District 2, and I can remember the whole district mourning. We were so close to getting a victor, so close... But last year we had a victor, Johanna, and she's certainly been making her presence known.

Especially since all of her family aside from her younger sister died in an accident a few months ago. The house collapsed while she was on the train back and her sister was out of the house, and everyone inside was killed. And her little sister is so accident prone. Bad things always happen when Rowan's around: a tree fell down, killing three or four workers and missing her by centimetres; she was attacked by a wild bear when walking home and was only spared by a group of lumberjacks working nearby... You get the picture. I stay away from her because I don't want to get hurt.

I reach the camp and search around for Hollow for a few seconds, before eventually finding him by one of the chopping block stations. It doesn't take me too long to get his attention, and when I do he looks rather cheerful.

"Here's your money, kid," he says gruffly, handing me a pouch full of coins. After counting them thoroughly, I nod and walk out of the camp and towards town. I'll stop off to get some breakfast, but for now I can enjoy the pleasant walk through town. Swinging my axe in one hand, I walk into the mass of buildings that is the middle of District 7... But I am stopped by the sound of laughing. Bowing my head I make to keep walking, but I am stopped by a hand on my shoulder.

A man with a grizzled beard and wild brown eyes stands there, a knife in one hand. Immediately I feel a surge of fear within my stomach, gripping the axe in my hand hard. He clenches his hand on my arm hard, sinking his ragged nails into my shirt.

"Give me the money, or I'll run you through," he hisses, and at this close proximity, I can smell the alcohol in his breath. My heart pounds faster and faster as I make to pull the pouch out of my pocket... Then, I stop myself. Without this money, my mother and I don't have any food for the next week. I can't give it to him. Nevertheless, I find myself shaking as I reply,

"No."

This is clearly not the answer he was looking for, and a look of drunken fury comes onto his face. I grip onto the axe as hard as I can as his sharp nails dig right through my shirt and into my skin, and I feel the steel of his knife touching the harsh fabric of my shirt.

"I said give it to me! Give it to me now!" he screams, and I immediately stare around for a witness, but nobody is around. Most people are sleeping in on Reaping Day, and I only went to the lumber camp for some extra money. How can he not be waking people up with his screaming?! Panic surging through me, I feel the knife piercing my skin and leap back in shock, but he holds still.

"I'll kill you! I've killed before, and I'll kill you!" the drunkard shrieks, and his knife begins to dig into my flesh... Shutting my eyes, I realise what I have to do. My heart is thumping faster and faster, but I know I must do this. Come on, Jared, come on... Bringing back my arm, I imagine myself back in the woods. This... I'm just going to have to pretend this is a tree. I can do this..

He lets out a scream of agony as my axe makes contact with his flesh, and I feel it digging into his neck. Hot blood begins to run down the blade, and I feel the liquid as it comes into contact with my skin. Pulling the blade from him, I open my eyes and look down at him as he lies there, a look of horror on his face. I don't think he's dead, but he's getting there... So I walk away. There's nothing more I can say, and I don't know if he'll die... Anyway, it was self defence. I think.

Heart still pounding, I walk back to my house and slam the door behind me, as if the whole of Panem is watching. The drunkard's blood is dried onto my hands, and the second I get into the bathroom I begin to scrub at them. It is only when my hands are red raw that I stop and wash the dirt out of my face and hair, before heading into my room to get changed.

As I pull on a neat shirt and trousers, I think about the man. Did he have a family... Come on, Jared, he would have killed you or taken your money. You had a right to kill him, whether he had a family or not. He deserved it. However, even as I think it, I can't help but feel the guilt washing over me.

"Jared! I have food!" my mother's voice fills the silent house and I walk out into the kitchen where she stands, nursing a hot loaf of bread. Smiling at her, I let her embrace me quickly before taking the bread and walking over to the counter where I begin to cut it up... Oh God. Cutting it up.

"This crazy homeless man got killed out by the woods earlier," my mum says conversationally, accepting a plate with a few slices of bread on it. My eyes open a little wider, and I attempt to stop myself shivering.

"Oh." I reply shortly, tucking into my breakfast.

After that, I make my way to the Reaping, still guilty. Throughout the whole ceremony I just stand there, clenching my fists and staring at the ground. It's only when the Capitol escort calls a name that I am snapped out of my reverie.

"Jared Oakwood!"

**ROWAN MASON, DISTRICT 7 FEMALE**

"Johanna, where the fuck did you put the soap?!"

Out of the whole district, no, the whole of Panem, I am the only one who ever talks to my sister like that. Anyone else who dares (except the President, perhaps) would be warranted an axe in the back and an early grave. When we were little children, she would often threaten to kill me, and once even pushed me down the stairs. We've never had the most loving relationship, in an affectionate way, but she's become a lot more gentle recently. Maybe it was the unfortunate "accident" that killed our parents and two younger brothers. Unlike the rest of the district, we both know that it was not some simple accident.

When she refused President Snow's plans to prostitute her after she won the Games last year, at the tender age of seventeen, he swore revenge against our family. The roof of our old house collapsed, killing everyone but the two of us. Although I was out of the house at the time, I get the impression that I'm still wanted dead. There have been a lot of "incidents" concerning me and a near death, and I'm not fully convinced that they were... well... incidents.

My sister comes storming into the bathroom, an irritated expression on her face, and throws a bar of soap at my head. It misses by inches, and I grin as it smacks into the wall behind me. Trying to take a shower in this house is a hazardous occupation.

"Wow. Is that how you won the Games?" I ask, smirking, and she rolls her eyes. She ruffles up her short hair uncomfortably, and I bite my lip. When our family died, she had a panic attack and shaved it all off. It's growing back, but I kind of miss when it was long and wavy.

"Yes. I totally threw soap at all of the other tributes and won, brainless." Johanna replies, giving me a rather reluctant smile. She's not only my sister but also my best friend. I've never met anyone who I can get along with as well as her, and I don't really like anyone else. Out of the anxiety that I might get chosen for the Hunger Games (she's paranoid that Snow would do anything to get rid of me just to get to her), she's taught me how to use an axe like she can. We've bonded over that, as well as being united in grief.

It's strange having one of the most famous people in Panem being your older sister, especially when you know little details about her that other people don't. The way that she sucked her thumb until she was nine years old, the way that she now wets the bed regularly, the way that she cries out from nightmares. According to most of Panem, she's a "Heartless Bitch". I know better.

"Good to know. If I get Reaped, I'm doing that. That's a very valuable piece of information to have." I reply sarcastically, and she rolls her eyes, but leans forwards to hug me anyway. She's also started hugging me a lot more regularly, and has become much more possessive. It's almost annoying, especially when I want to go and run wild with my friends, but I can sort of understand why.

When Johanna leaves, I flick the shower on and begin washing myself, using the soap that she had previously stolen. After I've washed my body and hair, I pull on a fluffy towel and walk out towards my room. The benefit of having Johanna Mason as an older sister is that we get a house in the Victors Village.

I pull on my Reaping clothes, before going downstairs. We walk to the Reaping together- she, as this year's female mentor, has to be there too. However, we split off when we reach the town centre, because I want to go and meet my friends. I don't have any particular friends, since I find it difficult to get along with most people, but I have a group of kids who I can tolerate at a pinch. They can be good fun when I'm in the mood, and I want to be cheered up today. The Reaping always makes me miserable because it reminds me of my parents. Nevertheless, I'm going to stay strong for Johanna. She has it much worse than I do.

"Hey, Ro!" a familiar voice shrieks, and I find myself dragged into a circle of chattering girls. I try and stop myself gnashing my teeth; I literally _hate _being called "Ro". Plus I'm not a huge fan of this particular group of girls, since all they seem to want to talk about is boys... oh yes, and my sister. Since they never paid any attention to me before Johanna got famous, I don't think their liking is so much for me.

"Seriously, Ro-Ro, you need to introduce me to your sister! I'm sure she'd want to meet your best friends!" a girl called Alicia says cheerfully. I begin grinding my teeth... Ro-Ro? Fucking seriously? They are either taking the extreme piss, or are actually so stupid that they think I enjoy being referred to as "Ro-Ro". You know what? When Johanna gets back from the Capitol after the Games, I'm going to call her "Jo-Jo" and see how reacts. Could be amusing to watch.

I am dragged into the square by the group of girls, and I soon find myself minus a drop of blood from my finger (courtesy of the Capitol official registering everybody), before I make my way to where the rest of the sixteen year old girls are standing. I wave to my sister onstage, who shoots me a reassuring look.

The Reaping starts, and a large boy with muscular arms and broad shoulders is pulled onto the stage. He looks rather shy and keeps his eyes averted from the cameras, and there is a look of plain misery on his face. I don't know if he's just doing this for the cameras, since he looks like a brute, but there's something real in his expression that makes me feel bad for him. I wonder who the girl will be? It'll be Johanna's first year as a Mentor, and I'm sure she'll hate it.

The district escort goes over to the girl's Reaping ball and fishes around for a name; almost unconsciously, I find myself holding my breath. There is a look of horror on Johanna's face and I attempt to catch her eye, but she's staring firmly at the ground...

"Rowan Mason!"

Oh my God... Oh my God... My breathing becomes shallow as I stand still, shocked. What... what does this even mean? This... this can't be simply a coincidence. This was rigged! This was fucking rigged, no doubt about it! White hot fury fills me as I begin walking up to the stage to join the large boy.

I've been trained. Johanna _knew _this would happen, and that's why she trained me! Thank God she did... I will not go down without a fight. I will win these Games.


	9. District 8 Reaping

**Apologies if this is slightly lazy: it was half written at 5am by a half asleep me with a cup of cold coffee and half a dozen energy drinks, so... Go easy ;P I've been as careful as I can because District 8 is a FUCKING LEGENDARY DISTRICT. Spinsters who go batshit crazy and rebel all the time? Yes. **

**Btw. I'm thinking slaugherfish should make a reappearance..?**

**DIMITY CHIFFON, DISTRICT 8 FEMALE**

"Happy birthday." are the first words I utter as I sit up in bed. Although I don't know if my younger brother (and the intended recipitent to my words) is awake, I've been thinking about the fact that it's his birthday all night. Corduroy has always had to go through the strain of having his birthday on Reaping day, and I know he absolutely loathes it.

He sits up blearily, wiping his eyes with the back of his arm. Glancing at me from the other side of our shared room in the Community Home, he shoots me a very small smile. He's only thirteen and has barely any entries in the Reaping ball today, but I can see the anxiety in his eyes. My older sister complex kicks in and I stumble over to where he is sitting and sling an arm around his shoulders. It's bitter cold today, as it usually is in this district, but he's as warm as a toaster.

"You're a teenager now," I say, attempting to cheer him up. "One step closer to being eighteen." He smiles a little at that. We've lived in the Community Home ever since our parents were executed for being part of an illegal operation selling fabrics to the Black Markets of other districts. He hates it here, because he's never fit in anywhere, and having to live with the tormentors brings his anxiety up a notch.

I missed my parents for a little while, but I've long gotten over it. When you're worried about starving, being slaughtered in your bed, or being caught up in one of the many wannabe revolutions, there isn't much time to mourn.

There is the sound of shouting from outside the door and I stiffen reflexedly, reaching under Corduroy's bed for the shears that I've kept hidden for all these years. When there's trouble here, everyone is involved... And usually, one of the bigger boys will stumble into whichever room takes his fancy, and rough up everyone in there. So I keep a shears to hand, just in case. I've used it a couple of times, although never enough to kill. My biggest priority is taking care of Corduroy and Faille, my seven year old blind sister.

Although a knife might be more prudent, the shears tend to ward people off. And if not... they'll discover that I know how to use them. As much as I don't like hurting people, self defence is important if you want to survive in District 8.

"Sounds like Flax and Paco are having a bust again," Corduroy mutters, and I nod my head slowly, getting to my feet and pointing the shears at the door. I stole them from a rich merchant's garden a few years ago, and I've never regretted it. Flax and Paco, two of the biggest boys in the Community Home, are not people to be dealt with lightly.

The door slams open and Flax stands framed in the doorway, his face bright red, with one eye almost swollen shut. Fury evident on his square face, he marches into the room, glaring at me.

"Put the shears away, bitch, before I get nasty," he growls, grabbing them by the end and making to yank them away from me. I hold on with all of my might and quickly have them out of his grip, before twisting them round. Taking the sharp end, I bring the blunt handle crashing down towards his head. It makes a very satisfying clunk as it hits home.

Flax reels around for a few moments, groaning in pain, before he glares up at me with a look of outraged fury. "You tried to kill me!" he hisses. I shake my head at him, switching round so the sharp end is pointing directly at his face.

"I didn't mean to kill you. I only meant to..." I pause for a second. "Maime. Or seriously injure. Now get out before I change my motive."

He does so, muttering some very choice swear-words under his breath. As soon as he exits, I shut the door and pile our things against it, barring him (or any one else) access to our room. I feel a little guilty, but he would have gone for Faille, and I can't let that happen.

Turning around, I shove the shears back under the bed as quickly as I can, before hugging Corduroy who looks terrified. He's always been timid, and the larger boys like Paco and Flax terrify him to wits end.

"It's alright. He won't come back," I mumble into his hair, before walking to the smallest bed by the window where Faille lies, still asleep. "Hey there, little sister."

Her eyes open slowly, although she cannot see a thing. She was born blind, and the district healer said it might be kinder to drown her, since she'll "Never be any use to anyone like that". However, my mother refused and brought her home, raising her herself. Faille's a smart little girl, even if she is blind, and speaks with an intelligence of almost twice her years.

"Dimity?" she says, regarding me with deep golden eyes, a similar shade to mine... However, her's are blank whereas mine see all. "Is it Reaping day?"

"Yes. Cord is thirteen. Want to show him what you got him?"

We do the familiar ceremony of opening presents, before the real day's activities begin. As much as I'd love to spend the day celebrating Corduroy's birthday, there's the Reaping to prepare for. I get them both bathed and dressed, and bathe myself, before I dig out my Reaping clothes and begin to get myself ready. Keeping my face strong for the two of them, I grip their hands as we walk out of the room and downstairs, bypassing Flax and Paco (who are fighting again, naturally).

Walking through the crowded streets of District 8, full of chattering people heading for the square the Reaping, we stop by the Baker's stand. I use some of my hard-earned factory money to purchase us a bread ring each, and we nibble them absentmindedly as we follow the crowd towards the Justice Building.

As soon as we have registered (and I have dropped Faille off with the woman in charge of the Orphanage who gives me a grumpy nod), I walk to my place amongst the other fifteen year old girls. I bite my lip.

Every Reaping brings back memories of Lace. She was my older sister, and she... she died in the 68th Hunger Games, almost two years ago now. Lace came fourteenth after her inability to escape a swarm of tracker jackers brought her down, and was returned to our district an unrecognisable mess of boils and swollen body parts. I couldn't even recognise that corpse as my once beautiful sister.

The district escort walks towards the Reaping ball, after giving her usual speech, and I find myself clenching my jaw. God, please don't be me... I have to stay here! What will Faille or Corduroy do without me? But, like what always happens in these situations, I hear the worst possible outcome.

"Dimity Chiffon!"

**PACO CUTTHROAT, DISTRICT 8 MALE**

Why is it that everyone in the Community Home treats me like some kind of monster just because Flax attacks me every day? It's not like I barge into people's rooms like he does, nor do I spread havoc. I just defend myself, and I like to win. Nothing beats the satisfaction of grinding his face into the dirt, because he's a straightforward bully.

I awaken to find, as usual, him standing over me with a dark expression on his face. For some inexplicable reason we were placed in a room together, and he takes it in his stride to destroy every single possession of mine. Usually I'd just ignore him and get on with life, but this has been going on ever since I was shoved into this orphanage when I was two years old. So we've fallen into this routine: wake up, fight, get into trouble... over and over again. It's beginning to get boring.

"Wake up, _Cutthroat_," he mimics, making fun of my surname again. I can scarcely stop myself groaning and rolling back over. My family is hispanic, from a place south of Panem called Mexico. I think it might have been an adopted name from when they fled it, or possibly some kind of cruel joke. Oh well, it's always a good introduction to tell people that my name is "Cutthroat".

"Good morning, Flax. Sleep well?" I say politely, as if he'd been asking me my opinion on the weather. I haven't tried this tactic before, and it might make him refrain from attacking me as usual. I can always beat him in a fight, since I'm larger and more engaged, but he continues his torment anyway... It's getting ridiculous, to be frank. He scowls, his thick eyebrows meeting in the middle as he does so.

"What're you talking about?" he says stupidly, his mouth falling slightly open. I can barely stop myself grinning.

"Would you really want to attack me this morning, Flax? Wouldn't you rather sleep in than engage yourself in a useless battle?" I've always been good with words. Hopefully my opponent will be too slow to pick them up as well as their meaning. A cheerful smile fixates itself onto my features and I lie back against the pillows, luxuriating in his ignorance. "Personally, I'm liable to fall asleep if we keep talking. Care to be quiet so I can have a few more minutes? Thanks for the consideration."

And with that, I shut my eyes and nestle back down, knowing what's coming. Call it being cocky and hotheaded, but I'm rather up for a fight now. Being cocky with Flax is what I do best, and with his constant tormenting, it's what keeps me sane.

A hand grabs me by the scruff of the neck and pulls me upwards, but I'm ready for him. Slipping out of his grasp, I slam both of my hands into his stomach and push him backwards. He lets out a grunt of shock and falls to the ground, and I grab the broomstick from by the door. Taking it in both hands, I bring it smashing down towards his head. Anything heavy is good for me, since I'm rather large, and as long as I don't need particular finesse for it, I can make most blunt weapons deadly. A mace, for example, I could use easily. A sword? Not so much.

Flax brings up both of his hands to catch the broomstick and flicks it out of my grasp, but I leap forward to catch it. Kicking the door open, I back out into the hallway in order to give us more space. A nice wake-up call for all of the other kids in the Community Home.

My opponent comes charging towards me, and I block each of his blows with a swish of the broomstick. Soon enough, he's got bored and goes charging into one of the rooms, leaving me on my own. Wiping a few beads of sweat from my forehead, I head back into our shared room and dump the broomstick out of the narrow window. I don't need him finding it tonight and getting any ideas.

I can hear shouting: Flax's voice and a girl's. Who's voice could that be? It sounds like Dimity, a girl about three years younger than me. But would she seriously be shouting back at Flax? That's a dumb thing to do for anyone apart from... say... me. I'm his age, eighteen, and even bigger than he is. She's a pretty tiny fifteen year old. Then again, I will admit she's got spirit. Maybe she's waving a knife in his face?

Pulling my Reaping clothes on, I walk out of the door only to crash headlong into Flax. There's a nasty bruise forming on his forehead, and he does not look happy at all. Stepping out of the way, I let him go first.

"Bloody hell, that Dimity girl hit me over the head with a pair of shears!" he complains, and I let out a bark of laughter. He shoots me an unpleasant look. "It wasn't fucking funny," Flax says in a menacing tone, squaring up to me. It's hard not to sigh- the second fight of the morning. Really?

We commence with the second fight of the morning, after which I walk out of the door and head to the Reaping. It'll be my last one this year, and I've been thinking... Well, I'm big, I'm strong, and it'd be better for me to go into the Games than a poor little twelve year old. I think... I think I'm going to volunteer. A volunteer from District 8! I know it sounds stupid, but I think I can do it. People get along with me easily, and I think I might even be able to talk my way into the Careers... Yeah, I'm volunteering.

When Dimity is called up as the female for our District, I do feel a twinge of doubt though. Could I go into the Games with her? It might mean killing her, and I don't think I could ever kill somebody I know... But as the male is called, I pale.

It's her little brother Corduroy.

I watch as Dimity gasps in shock, and a pang of guilt fills me. He's a scrawny little thirteen year old and I'm a big eighteen year old... Wouldn't it be the right thing to do to help him? Yes...

"I volunteer!"

She gasps in relief as I walk up to the stage and stand beside her, hands in my pockets. My heart is thudding against my ribcage... What have I done?

**Poor Flax. He must have some concussion.**

**Review? :)**


	10. District 9 Reaping

**Just like to recommend Sovereign1598's SYOT "Jingle Hell: The 12****th**** Annual Hunger Games". Please submit tributes! Heh, it's Christmas themed!**

**AERYN HAITH, DISTRICT 9 FEMALE**

I love the smell of the wheat fields. They're so open and unrestrictive, and sometimes, if you stare right into the distance, you can see the wilds. Out of the districts, and out into the woods. The shrivelled, sun blackened trees around here are nothing special. Sure, they're a lot of fun to climb… but wouldn't those lush green trees out on the other side of the fence be more fun?

Perched on the branch of a large, spread out tree, I sunbathe in the early morning light. Usually I'd have to be working by now, out with my scythe in the fields, but I can relax today. Nobody works on Reaping Day. Even the lowest of the low… and that's me, I can promise you. Someday, I want to be the richest woman in the whole district. Exactly how I'm going to accomplish that is still questionable, but I'm holding out in hope of something happening.

A lot of people call me Squirrel, because I clamber up and down trees so easily. When I was younger it was a way to hide from the rampaging Peacekeepers (one in particular), but even as the Peacekeepers have become calmer, climbing trees has remained my hobby. One of my favourite things to do is jump down at people I know when they come searching for me. However, I'd never do that to anybody I don't know. If a stranger comes along, I'll scramble up that tree faster than a cork out of a bottle.

"Squirrel! Hey, Aeryn!" I hear a familiar voice call, and stick my head out of the branches to find my face inches away from Delaney's. We've been best friends ever since we were little, and she's one of the only people used to my rather odd antics by now. She barely even flinches when I dangle out of the tree, my long red hair brushing the floor. Alright, I'm showing off; I don't normally hang headfirst out of trees. As much as I'd love to say that I do, I don't and saying anything else would be a lie.

Not to say I don't lie, of course.

"Morning," I grin, flicking my legs out of the tree and flopping to the floor in a tangle of red hair and patched clothes. When I get up, there is a smirk on her face. She's always been the more ladylike out of the two of us, and doesn't always approve of my behaviour. However, Delaney is the best friend I've ever had, and I'd trust her with my life any day. Excluding the Games- I wouldn't expect her to volunteer for me or anything.

Honestly, I don't really think about the Games until Reaping Day actually comes along. The rest of the year is spent worrying if we'll get enough food, or if we can afford to keep the house, etcetera. There's no time to think about if you're going to get pulled into a sick game in which you will most probably die. Sure it's pretty sickening to think about it, but I'm really rather vague about the whole thing. I'm sixteen and haven't been chosen yet, and I doubt I will be. That sort of thing just doesn't happen to people like me.

Delaney rummages in her bag, before pulling out a loaf of bread and grinning at me, waving it in the air. I follow it with my eyes hungrily and, when she's not paying attention, throw out my hands to grab it. She lets out a cry of laughter as I snatch it up in both hands and shimmy back up the tree. When I've settled myself in a comfortable nook, I begin tearing the bread to pieces.

"That's for me too, you bitch!" Delaney calls up cheerfully. Tearing it in half with my fingernails, I toss one half down to her and take a large bite out of my piece. It's gritty and rather unpleasant, but that's the fact with almost all district bread. I suppose we get it a little better here than some other districts, since we are the grain district, but it's nothing compared to what I see getting shipped off to the Capitol. Fatasses.

After I finish, I climb down the tree to join her on the ground. Together, we begin to walk back towards the town, keeping up a light chatter. Now the day has actually come, I don't feel quite so confident about the Reaping. Every step I take back towards the town centre makes my heart pound a little bit harder, before eventually, I turn straight round to Delaney and look her straight in the eyes.

"Delaney, if I told you I wanted to run away… what would you do?" I say haltingly, in a quiet tone. If I am overheard talking about wanting to run away, I'll be lashed or maybe even shot. There's a high likelihood that it'll be seen as treason and I'll be sent to the Capitol and tortured. The look on Delaney's face confirms my thoughts.

"Oh my God, Squirrel, don't say that so loudly!" she says in hushed tones, biting her lip and spinning around. When she realises that we are completely alone, Delaney sighs and continues in a rather sarcastic tone, "_If you told me you wanted to run away_, I'd try to stop you. Aeryn, the Peacekeepers will catch you and… and cut out your tongue or worse! Please don't do anything so drastic!"

The look of fear in her eyes dissuades me, and I follow her back to the district slum. She'll have to keep walking until she gets to the merchant houses, where she lives, but I stop her. Scowling, I make my way into my rundown little house. I think my parents have already gone out to the Reaping… That's fine by me. It's not like we talk very much anyway, and I don't know what I'd say if they were here. My sister Nectar is better, and I trust her a lot more. But when I look around the house for her or them, I can't see anybody.

I get changed quickly, before heading out of the house and walking down to the Reaping, following the stream of people. It takes place in the village square outside the Justice Building, and everyone has to go. If you don't, you get shot.

After signing myself in, I hurry to near the front where all of the other sixteen year old girls stand. I spot Delaney and we clasp hands as the District escort comes mincing onto the stage, a fixed smile on her painted face. She does her usual talk about the Dark Days and how "_gorgeous, fantastic, and FREAKING BEAUTIFUL_" The Capitol is, before walking over to the girl's Reaping Ball.

Clutching Delaney's hand, I watch her every movement as she fishes around in the slips… Then, she pulls one out and says in a deep, important voice, "Aeryn Haith!"

Oh shit.

**RYE HARRID, DISTRICT 9 MALE**

I slice the bread with careful, precise strokes. Most of my family aren't up yet, since it is Reaping Day, but my mother and I have been awake for hours. Ever since my father died, my mother and I have been taking care of my younger siblings. Since I've always been a practical sort of person, I don't mind it all that much. I stopped going to school last year (when I was sixteen) to work in one of the grain factories, and I've taken up the post of provider alongside my mother.

We're a good team.

After I've finished cutting a very precise slice of bread for each person, I take a plate out from below the sink and pile them up on it. Then, I head to the table and dump it down, alongside a small plate of jam that my mother spent all of last night making. As it's the Reaping, we've tried to make things better. My mother's always been the no-nonsense sort, and taught me the difference between right and wrong early on. Sadly, that did not help my intelligence, but that doesn't matter. I've got a steady, practical life and that's all I need.

"Morning mum, Rye," a voice comes from the stairs, and we both turn around to see all three of my siblings standing there, looking sleepy. Bailey, Finn and Tarra: Tarra, at ten years old, isn't yet old enough to go into the Games. However Finn and Bailey are 12 and 15, and it is a possibility that they will be Reaped. There's always the worry that they will get chosen, but I mostly focus on stopping the whole family starving.

"Good morning Finn, Tarra, Bailey," my mother replies, glancing at them approvingly. They're all smart and dressed in their Reaping clothes, like me. Bailey, who is fifteen and usually in dirty jeans, is today wearing a neat dress that makes her look like a respectable merchant's daughter. There is an unmatchable scowl on her face, however, and I can't help but be slightly amused.

"There's food." I say quietly, gesturing at the table. The three of them troop dutifully down and begin tucking in, and I pull a slice for myself and begin to gnaw on it. I don't talk very much and I prefer to just nod or gesture, but sometimes that's difficult. Honestly, I prefer it when other people talk for me.

Once I've finished, I bid the others goodbye and walk out of the door, slipping on my shoes and grabbing a hooded coat as I go. I need to meet Sarah, my best friend, as we always do before the Reaping. She saved me in a fight when I was seven, and I've never forgotten it. Although I've gotten older and much tougher now, from years of hauling sacks at the grain factory, I still try to keep out of fights. However, when provoked, I don't stand down until I've won. Hitting under the belt and throwing sand in the eyes? I'd do it. All's fair in love and war.

I walk through town, and eventually find her outside the Justice Building. She's standing there, leaning against a wall with a slightly moody look on her face. When she spots me a smile appears and she walks towards me.

"Hey, Rye," Sarah says cheerfully, as she comes over to me and embraces me in a quick hug. I hold her back for a few moments before she backs away. I can't help but feel a little bit wistful: I've had a crush on her for a while. Although I'd never tell her, since I'm not that sort of person, it's been growing in me for ages.

"How are you feeling about the Reaping?" she asks as we fall into step side by side, walking towards the square where the Reaping will take place. I can't help but feel a little nervousness growing up in me; honestly, I'm terrified. I try and keep a cool head most of the time and stay calm for my siblings, but I can't suppress the anxiety growing in the pit of my stomach.

"Scared." I answer bluntly, clenching and unclenching my hands. Sarah shoots me a slightly odd look- most people get very confused by the fact I don't answer much in more than a word or a grunt. But it's just how I am. Speaking makes me anxious, and I can't do any harm by not talking at all, can I? However, feeling like I have to exaggerate (and trusting the fact I won't mess up to my best friend), I continue, "I'm scared I'll get Reaped. But I'm scared for Finn and Bailey too."

She is silent for a second, just looking at me, before she slips her hand into mine. I feel my face redden a little at her touch, and let my hand go limp in her own. I don't want to do anything that might offend her, and I'm scared that I'll grip her hand too hard and- God forbid- hurt her. I like Sarah. I don't want to hurt her.

We follow the people heading to the Reaping, and when we eventually get there, the place is packed. We have to split up as she goes to the girl's side, and I go to stand with the other seventeen year old boys. The district escort comes onstage and starts doing her usual repertoire, but I keep my eyes firmly on Sarah.

The district escort calls out a girl- she's got red hair, and she looks rather like she's about to run away as she is called up to the stage. She keeps shifting nervously from foot to foot, and there is a wild look in her eyes. Then, it's the boys turn and I find myself clenching my fists, wishing Sarah could be with me now to hold my hand and comfort me.

And a name is called.

"Rye Harrid!"

I let out a long exhale of breath. My God, it's me. I… I'm going into the Hunger Games. A shiver runs through my entire body as I walk shakily up to the stage.


	11. District 10 Reaping

**If you thought Sceptor was "special", you should see this year's male...**

**LILIT AILORA, DISTRICT 10 FEMALE**

I fiddle with my knife, humming rather tunelessly to myself. It's not one of those deadly Capitol knives or anything, it's but a simple, rusted kitchen thing, but it serves it's purpose. Living on the streets in a district where _anything _is regarded as fresh meat, I have to keep alert and ready for a fight. Somehow, the idea of ending up as a pie does not really appeal to me.

Grinning to myself at the thought, I get to my feet and begin to walk out of the alley. Morning is dawning, and I can smell the delightful aroma of fresh cow shit. I've never been an animal person myself, but from the way some of the people run out to the fields around here, I can see that I am the minority.

Animals do seem to dislike me, though. Quite a lot of living creatures seem to dislike me. It's either the attitude, the fact that I'm a street urchin, or the idea that anybody could have a sixth finger like my own. Sometimes it kind of disgusts me. It's the unnatural way it sticks out of the side of my left hand like some unwanted wart. However, it's usefulness outdoes the fact that it looks rather nasty: nobody can flip anybody off like I can. The amusement of seeing people's jaws drop open as I use my pinkie and addition-finger to swear at them is fantastic.

Since the last time I went near an animal I got mobbed and ended up looking like a living, breathing pie myself, I stay away from that side of things. Perhaps it would be satisfying to chop up animals, but all of the people who work in the slaughterhouse are insane. So I do odd jobs... And occasionally, do things that I'm not supposed to do.

Although since I'd rather not get shot, I stay away from the illegal side of things most of the time.

"Lilit! Come here! I've got some work for you!" I hear shouting over the usual hubbub of District 10, and turn around to see that the baker is standing with his head poked out of the bakery's door, a flour stain on his rather ridiculous hat. Sheathing my knife in my belt, I walk towards him and shoot him my best "I'm-a-reliable-workman-so-pay-me-well" smile. Although I'm not usually this friendly with people, I know the baker quite well from years of doing odd jobs for him. Mostly I'm quite detached because that's the best way not to get hurt.

After my mother died in when our house collapsed, when I was nearly seven, I've tried to guard myself from becoming too attached to anyone ever again. Sometimes, I can almost hear her in my head, telling me what I'm doing is right or wrong. I'm not mad or anything, don't get me wrong, I just miss her a great deal. Sometimes I try to forget that incident, but the images just appear in my mind again.

And the ugly great scar on my forearm is a pretty nice reminder too.

The baker hands me a large box full of steaming goods, as well as a list of addresses to deliver them to. Breathing in the delicious smell, I resist the urge to swallow the whole thing and make off. Well... not the box. I'm no scientist, but I don't imagine that eating a cardboard box would be great for your health. Death might just be on the cards.

I haul the heavy box around the streets, keeping my face emotionless as I deliver to all of the people, and I shoot the butcher a rather suspicious look. He always looks at me really strangely, as if he wants to eat me... Hmm... Maybe the crack about the pies wasn't so funny after all... Taking care to sprint as fast as I can down the street away from his shop, I stop outside the bakers, wiping sweat off my forehead. Alright I'm slightly paranoid, but I've seen kids go missing before. The butcher has a reputation for... um... _exotic_ meat let's say.

I wonder if he kills the kids straight away, or drags them off the street and murders them in his shop? He's a creepy guy. Okay, wow, I'm getting particularly paranoid and strange today, but... Well, I'm fifteen years old, I've lived eight years in the street, and I haven't died/been raped/been kidnapped yet. So I figure I'm doing alright.

After the baker has paid me with a couple of coins and a steaming lemon tart, I walk away from his shop devouring it. It's sweet, and so hot that it burns the roof of my mouth, but I hardly care. He rarely gives me treats like this, so I guess he must be in a good mood. Or perhaps it's just the fact that it's Reaping day.

When I spot a couple of kids of my age, I begin to fiddle cautiously with the knife in my belt. Since they aren't armed, and I've got into plenty of fights before (and won most of them- the fact that I'm tall and handy with a knife are large factors in this), I'm not particularly worried. However, they all look relatively mean-faced.

"Hey, stupid witch!" One of them shouts, leering nastily at me. "How's the weather up there? How's the finger?"

Ah, perfect moment to remind them about the fact that I enjoy flipping people off with my finger. The shock of it happening for the first time is irreplaceable, but I haven't sworn at them for a while. So perhaps the shock may have returned.

I bring my two fingers round expertly in a low two, before turning and running up the street towards the Reaping. They are hooting more, worse names after me, but I don't particularly care. They used to do it a lot more, but when I was twelve I broke their ringleader's nose. That... um... kind of put them off for a little bit.

When I reach the town square, I register myself before blending in with the other fifteen year old girls. Most of them ignore me, but a couple shoot nervous looks at my left hand, before shifting slightly away. I keep my face completely emotionless. Sometimes, it really hurts me that these people despise me so because of a simple extra finger. But the rest of the time I just enjoy flipping them off.

The district escort comes onto the stage, in all his peacock-feathered glory, and starts whining about how much our district smells. Then, he gets on to talking about the Capitol and the Dark Days, and finally walks over to the girl's Reaping ball. Most people are getting vaguely irritated by this point, and by the time he's pulled out a name and shouted it loudly, I barely hear over the annoyed mumblings. Then, he shouts it again and I raise my eyebrows in shock.

"Lilit Ailora!"

I'd... I'd never thought that it could be me. Never even considered that the girl I'd seen on TV so many times getting ripped apart by a bear, or stabbed to death by a Career, could ever be me... Oh... Come on, Lilit. Stop standing there.

Swallowing, I make my way up to the stage and stand there, chin raised high, with my black hair falling in waves down my back. At least I'm not covered in acne, or what could be considered ugly, or anything like that... And maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to make enough of an impression to get the Capitol to like and sponsor me? Maybe... maybe I can even win this.

Just maybe.

**MICHAEL RIDER, DISTRICT 10 MALE**

My fist slams into the punching bag. I stand there, breathing hard, and watch the plastic as it practically pulsates, a large dent in the fabric from where I hit it. Sweat is pouring down my forehead from many hours of training, and my shorts are drenched with it. I don't remember when my shirt came off, but it did so many hours ago.

"Weren't expecting that were you, punch-bag..." I mutter, and let out a low laugh. The sound of my family moving around upstairs comes through into the basement, and I let out a hiss of disappointment. That means I can't be down here anymore, because the morning has come, and the Reaping with it. Oh... And I was having so much fun down here in the basement, just me and the punching bag, moving back and forth with precise, clear movements... It's such a shame it had to end, it really is.

"See you tonight, punch-bag," I say to it cheerfully, picking up my shirt from the floor and pulling it over my head. As I wiggle my arms through the holes either side of it, I continue, "Keep yourself warm for me."

I head up the stairs, and burst out into the light. Shielding my eyes for a second at the strength of it, I glance down back into the basement and realise that I was practising in complete darkness. So I must be able to see in the dark... Or was I really seeing at all? Maybe it was all some kind of illusion. My father, the mayor, talks about illusions sometimes. He says I have them, and I should really be seen to by a doctor. But I don't need a doctor. It's not like he or my mother talks to me anyway: they just pretend I don't exist. My younger brother Felix calls me crazy.

But I'm not crazy.

Walking into the dining room, I grab a slice of bread from the table and eat it with relish. Then, I tuck into a plateful of eggs and bacon, before heading into my room to get ready. My stomach is full, unlike most of the people in this district, and I can be kind of grateful for that... But since I'm in the richer part of the district, that means I can't be near finger-girl, and I wish I could be.

I've followed her ever since we were little. She's a year younger than me and lives on the streets, and I don't really know what she does. But she's so, so beautiful. The darkest black hair, like coal, and blue eyes the colour of the sea... Oh I could just _drown _in those eyes. I wish I could drown in her eyes. Is that possible? But I follow her all the time, and she usually notices and runs away.

After pulling on my Reaping clothes, I slam myself down on my bed and moan into my pillow, "Oh finger-girl, I so wish you'd be mine..." I don't know her real name. I don't know if she has one. But she has an extra finger... It's so cute, like a tiny little wart. I wish I could touch it. Someday, I'm also going to kill her. I want her to stay beautiful forever.

When I'm finally done, I head back out into the main part of the house and almost crash straight into Felix. He's thirteen and small, and I tower over him. He swears and steps backwards, a scowl immediately coming onto his face.

"For fuck's sake, Michael, were you talking to yourself again? God, you're crazy." he says pompously, rolling his eyes. Before I know what I'm doing I have him by the throat, dangling him up in the air with a dangerous look in my eyes. I'm not crazy.

"Take it back," I snarl, squeezing my fingers around his throat, throttling him. His face is beginning to grow purple, and he's trying to stutter words out... I drop him distastefully, letting him slam to the floor. "See you after the Reaping."

I march out of the door, ignoring his frenzied whines.

When I get to the square, I register myself before going to stand with the other sixteen year old boys... I can't see finger-girl. I wonder where she is? Oh, I do hope she doesn't get Reaped. I'm not going to get Reaped, because I'm the Mayor's son and that's impossible... Or maybe I will? Who knows, who knows.

The district escort comes onto the stage and pulls out a name I do not recognise... Lilit Ailora. Who could that possibly be? Then, my eyes widen as finger-girl begins walking up to the stage! Oh God, how could this be happening!? Is this some cruel twist of fate? Sweat begins to bead at my forehead as I realise what I must do... I have to volunteer to go with her, to help her and then kill her myself, because she has to be pure and perfect like she is now...

"Tre-"

"I volunteer as tribute!"

And I'm off like a shot up to the stage before the district escort can say anything, and I stand beside fin-Lilit, a relieved expression coming onto my face. She is staring at me, her eyebrows raised... There is a look of recognition on her face, and a slightly disturbed look. Oh, she must be sad that I'm coming into the Games with her. I'll have to comfort her once it's just the two of us, whenever that may be.

And once I win these Games, I'll miss her oh so much. But I cannot let her be tainted.

**Wow, Jesus, I felt strange writing Michael's point of view... He's batshit crazy, I must say, and I do feel very sorry for Lilit having such a weirdo on her case...**


	12. District 11 Reaping

**Hope everyone had a great Christmas- sorry for the wait, I've been out going to Christmas parties, having a life etcetera ;D Well, the time has come for me to write another chapter. I've had a little too much caffiene, so excuse the odd writing/behaviour. **

**BORGY COTTER, DISTRICT 11 MALE**

I am awoken by the smell of frying potatoes. Lying on my back, I inhale the smell, before sitting up and rubbing sleep dust from my eyes. One of the advantages of being adopted by the Mayor, is that you always have enough to eat. Once, before I was taken in, I was malnourished and gaunt faced. Now, I am sturdy and strong- stronger than most in this District. However, the dirt of the streets, metaphorically at least, can never leave you.

Because I will never love anyone again. When you've experienced the pain of losing your parents, and not even knowing where they are and why they abandoned you, you know you can never afford to do something like that.

However, I lead a good life now. Living with the Mayor and his wife has many perks about it: a priveleged lifestyle, for example. They don't have any children of their own because of... um... fertility issues, which is why they took me in. Rita, the Mayor's wife (who wishes for me to call her "Mum" but I never have), saw me on the streets, and her already soft-heart melted.

She is my saviour, and I'll protect her with all I have.

Walking over to my dresser, I pull out a fine-toothed comb and begin to run it through my hair, before shooting myself a quick smile in the mirror. Then, I pull on some clothes, eventually fixing a small knife to my belt. People say I'm paranoid, but I always worry about getting attacked on the streets. Old habits die hard, they say, because I love wandering around the backstreets alone, like I did when I was a little boy.

Luckily, from years of having to defend myself, I learned how to use and throw knives. I haven't lost the habit, out of paranoia that I will be abandoned again, so I practise as often as I can. Pulling the small knife out of my belt, I play with it expertly between my fingers, before flicking it at the wall. It hits home, and I feel a slight surge as triumph, as I always do when I hit the target correctly.

"Borgy! Come on down for breakfast!"

I walk downstairs, to find my adoptive parents sitting at the kitchen table, tucking into plates of fried potatoes and toast. There is a plate laid out for me and, smiling at them, I sit down and begin tucking into it heartily. One thing that living on the street has taught me is to never stop eating.

Rita laughs at my enthusiasm, and Mayor Ludwig lets out a rumble that could be a chuckle. He doesn't talk very often, to me at least, but he's a good, caring man.

After I finish my plateful, I get to my feet and bid them both farewell. As it's the Reaping today, and there's a possibility that it'll be my last day in this district, I think I'll go on one last tour of the backstreets... No, I won't, actually. Since everyone will be asleep, there won't be any witnesses... And there's a high likelihood, given the fact I'm not as tiny as I used to be and I can't hide so easily, I'll get mugged.

Stepping out of the door, I head towards the main residential area where my friends live. Some people wonder why I'm not friends with the other rich town kids, but I just can't find my place among them. We don't think in the same way, and we weren't raised with the same mindset. Sure, the Mayor and his wife have spoiled me a little bit, but since I was not born with it, things are different. Those kids are all assured of what they're going to do, and know their place in life.

I never really have worked mine out.

"Hey, Borgy." Spinning around, I almost crash into Jarrar. He's a bit of a strange kid, always has been, but he's one of my closest friends. We met through my best friend Peter a few years ago (they are cousins), and he's been surprising me ever since. I punch him on the shoulder as a greeting- a little too hard, apparently, because he winces and steps back. Shooting him an apologetic look, I reply,

"Morning, Jarrar. Are Peter and Cleo about?"

Cleo is my other close friend. She's a girl, and usually I wouldn't hang out with girls because... well, a lot of the girls in this district are rather boring. Not meant in a sexist way, but they just don't like to do the sort of things I like to do (play football, wrestle etcetera), so they aren't much fun to hang around with. Alright, alright, I sound like a little boy. I'm actually sixteen, believe it or not.

"Yeah, your girlfriend is somewhere about," Jarrar teases, winking at me. I scowl and cross my arms.

"Cleo is _not _my girlfriend! She's just my friend who happens to be a girl."

A mockingly surprised expression comes onto Jarrar's face, and he grins at me. "Dude, I was talking about Peter. Anyway, they're just coming."

And, following his eyes, I spot Cleo and Peter walking towards us from behind one of the huts. They both smile and run over, and we're soon exchanging greetings, albeit a little nervously. Everyone in this district gets nervous on Reaping day, those three a lot more than myself. You know why? Because they don't know how to use weapons, and have to take mountains of tessera, unlike myself.

Being the Mayor's son does have some perks.

We walk to the Reaping together and soon register, before I line up with the other sixteen year old boys. Cleo gives me a hug for good luck (very embarrassing- I'm blushing like a tomato), before walking off to join the other girls. Peter and Jarrar open their mouths to start making fun of me when the district escort coughs loudly and begins her speech.

And soon enough, it's time for the boys to be Reaped.

"Borgy Cotter!"

Silence. I feel my whole body tense up as, for a second, I gasp. How can this be happening? For a few moments I just stand still, before shakily beginning to walk to the front, barely processing what is happening around me. My heart is thumping hard against my ribcage as I go to join the district escort and my adoptive father onstage. We exchange a long look, before I bow my head and wait for it all to be over.

**ALEXANDRA "WITCH" REUBEN, DISTRICT 11 FEMALE**

I've been training to be a Peacekeeper almost all of my life. That sounds a little strange, doesn't it? A shy, meek girl from District 11 training to enforce the law in other districts... Especially when I think the whole situation with the districts is terrible. Having parents who are Peacekeepers tends to seal the deal. They settled in this district from a different one, not sure which, and have decided that I am to follow their trade. And that, my friends, is the end of it.

Rolling my shoulders back, I glance down at the xiphos in my hand. A xiphos is a double edged sword, used by the civilization Ancient Greece before the Dark Days. It's practical and good for me, and is one of the weapons Peacekeepers are given. My mother also teaches me how to use a baton, the main weapon used by law-enforcers, but I don't like it. It makes me feel like some kind of oppressive bitch.

"That's enough, Alex," I hear a voice from behind me, and almost drop the xiphos to the floor in shock. When I realise that it's my mother standing there, I let out a sigh of relief and walk over to the weaponry rack, slotting it into place. Then, I wipe some of the sweat off my forehead and walk to the door, slipping past my mother. She shoots me a look of slight pride, before following me into the hallway.

My parents never went to all of this bother with my older sister Lilly. She was free to do pretty much whatever she wanted, and that mostly consisted of hanging around with her boyfriend Jerry. He was a good guy, but he volunteered for the Games a few years ago and died. Killed by the boy from District 1, which was a surprise because he didn't seem a bad sort for a Career, and Jerry was practically invincible. We were all rooting on him to win.

Jerry's death is one of the reasons people call me Witch. This is going to sound strange, but... I'm eighteen years old, and I've been friends with thirteen of our tributes. People say that I'm unlucky and ill-fated, and I can't help but agree with them. Things always seem to go wrong when I'm around.

Pulling the door to my room open, I walk over to the drawers and begin to rifle through them, searching for my Reaping clothes. At eighteen years old, it is my last year before I have to become a Peacekeeper and forget all about the Games. I wonder where I'll be assigned? Maybe to District 4; I've always wanted to see the sea.

When I'm changed, I walk out of the door to find my sister Lilly sitting at the kitchen table, sipping from a cup of tea. She smiles at me when we see each other, and she extends her arms for a hug. She looks weary; she always has, ever since Jerry died. I don't think she'll ever get another boyfriend, because she misses him too much.

"Hey, little sister. Last one and then it's all over." she mutters in my ear, before letting go. I sit down beside her and, together, we sip our way through a few cups of weak tea. As strange and oddly normal it seems to sit with your older sister and chat about idle things, it's what I need right now. Because I'm nervous.

After a little while, my mother walks in and informs me that it's time for the Reaping. I nod grimly, knowing what this means. Pretty much tomorrow, I'll be shipped off to be a Peacekeeper. Today is, essentially, my last day of freedom... Fantastic last day, might I add. I'm totally exhilarated to be put into a raffle where the winner dies. Maybe that sounds a little harsh, but I find the whole thing disgusting. How is the Capitol showing themselves to be "Just Leaders", if they're slaughtering the workers of their population? What will happen in a few years, say, when they don't have any workers left to kill? Because they're wiping out generations of kids. I would've thought they needed all of the slaves they could get to continue their fatcat lives...

Wow. If I say any of that out loud, I will be shot. But it was very satisfying to think it. What a fantastic, loyal law-enforcer I will be, huh?

I walk down the street towards the square, ignoring the mutters of "Witch" directed at me. I don't really have the backbone to reply, since I sort of agree. I miss Jerry a lot, and I especially miss the days when him, me and Lilly would go and watch the mockingjays in the orchard.

Registering myself, I walk over to the girl's side and stand as near the front I can with the other eighteen year olds. The district escort almost immediately comes onto the stage and begins her usual speech: she talks about the Dark Days and how amazing the Capitol is and all that. Then, she calls out a boy.

I don't recognise him. He looks a couple of years younger than me, and looks quite stocky and strong... He'll be a competitor, I think. However, I've been wrong before. I thought Jerry was going to win, and some little braniac from District 3 did instead. Most people believe that the boy who came second, a frizzy haired kid from District 8, deserved to win instead, because he basically sacrificed his life for the boy from District 3 to win... But I liked the winner. Matthis. He was nice.

I'm thinking about it just as a name is called.

"Alexandra Reuben!"

N-no. My God... This, this can't be happening! I can feel everyone's eyes upon me, and I swallow, trying desperately not to cry. I can feel tears pricking at my eyes, but I brush them away and walk up to the stage as steadily as I can. If I want... if I want sponsors, I'm going to have to appear as stoic and brave as I can.

Facing the boy, I shake his hand... And then I look out into the crowd. For a few moments I'm completely still and silent, like a rabbbit caught in the headlights... Then I burst into tears.


	13. District 12 Reaping

**Sorry for the wait. Happy new years everyone! After this Reapings are over aaaandd... TO THE CAPITOL! Please read the author's note at the end (it's about POVs in the next few chapters). This chapter isn't my favourite, but I'm so tired of the Reapings at this point (and I can imagine you all are too), it's kind of difficult to write like the earlier districts.**

**Btw. Absinthe is an alcohol. You'll see why I wrote this later on, during her POV.**

**MARCUS NOSA, DISTRICT 12 MALE**

It's been over seventeen years since my older sister died in the Hunger Games, and my father still hasn't gotten over it. Not in the way of misery, not at all. I think he's actually rather pleased with himself. I never even met her since she died a few days before I was born, finishing with a rather respectable position, but my father has been holding her death over my head all of my life. He seems to be under the impression that we're some sort of Career district, who are trained to kill since birth.

He's ashamed of all of us, really. My mother for giving birth to a daughter who was too weak to live, and my older brother Preston and I for being related to her at all. He's estranged himself from us, and likes to pretend we aren't even related. Sometimes, I wonder what's wrong with his mind.

And the rest of the time, I just want to prove him wrong. I've been training myself for years- using a kama I found at a makeshift-weapon store in the Hob when I was much younger, and there was a possible revolution at hand. The store was shut down quickly, since although the Peacekeepers would stand for cheap food, they did not like the idea of weapons. However, a lot of us managed to scrounge stuff while we still could.

Over the years, I've become skilled with it. I like to think that I'm better than even some of the Careers... Maybe that's why people call me "Cocky and Too Sure of Myself". But confidence is key, right? And the only way for me to show my father that he should accept my mother and stop her moping and drinking is to win these Games. There is nothing else I can do.

Not many people like me in this district, because I'm not like any of them. Most of the kids in this dumb district only want to become miners, and I've been raised with a different mindset. A Career mindset, really. I don't really get close to people much anyway, because that means I have to show them my insecurities. And being insecure is weak.

I continue my path down the street towards one of the slag heaps. It's where I usually meet my friends, because meeting in neutral territory is the best option. I've handpicked my friends. Well, not handpicked them as such, but I've observed them and decided that we'd make good friends. There really wasn't much option in it. Lily, Jack, Mai and Martin. We get along well enough, I suppose, even though they mostly just listen to me and don't say much in reply.

They're already congregated there when I reach our meeting place, and I quickly find myself enveloped into the circle. They're talking in low voices: about Reaping Day, of course. I can barely stop myself rolling my eyes at that. Honestly, I don't see what they're all so afraid of. If they'd bothered to spend their childhood's working on weaponry skills, like myself, they'd be itching to volunteer. It's their own faults.

I'm planning to volunteer next year, when I'm eighteen. I want to get as much training as possible, otherwise I'm never going to get anywhere. The point of this is to get my father to open his eyes, not to go batshit crazy and slaughter everyone. I'm not too bothered about the whole killing people part and I doubt it'll affect me too badly. I've got the Career mindset, and none of them turn out too badly, do they?

"Guys, do you want to discuss something other than the stupid Hunger Games?" I ask bluntly, slipping my hands into my pockets. They all stare at me as if I'd committed some sort of great sin by saying those words, looks of shock evident on all of their faces. I bask in their stares. Sometimes, it feels awesome to be the cool, brave one that everyone else looks up to...

"Not everyone is as _great _as you are, Marcus," Mai says in a tone that I'm almost certain is sarcastic. Choosing to ignore her possible sarcasm, I take it as a compliment and smile cheerfully, before moving into a slightly defensive stance.

"So what's the worry? It's not like you guys are _ever _going to get chosen," I reply, letting my eyebrows go halfway up my forehead. The others shoot me slightly irritated looks, before sighing and going back to their previous conversation. Rolling my eyes, I shoot them all looks of irritation before beginning to walk away. When they notice I'm gone, they start calling after me.

"Hey, Marcus! Wait up!" after a few moments, a small figure appears by my side and I smirk to myself. It's Jack: my main sidekick. I protect him from bullies and the like, and he makes me look tougher than I already am. I enjoy that. For a few seconds I turn around to look at the others who all have mixed expressions on their faces, before they all sigh again and move to catch me up. I feel a slight guilt bubbling up inside me as they come into step with me.

"Sorry about that, guys." I say in as apologetic a tone as I can muster. I don't really do the whole cocky thing on purpose; I like them, I really do. But when people like them complain about things they could have easily sorted out themselves, it makes me get full of myself.

Mai lets out a groan and glares at me, crossing her arms as we all continue to walk towards the square where the Reaping will take place. "Just shut up, Marcus. We're your friends, and you just spend the whole time treating us like shit. So let's just move on, okay?"

When we eventually reach the square, we split up to get registered. I go and join the seventeen year old boys with Martin, and the others go off to their own respective places. Although I'm still feeling slightly shocked at Mai's outburst earlier, I can't help but feel a twinge of excitement. The Reaping! I wonder who'll get chosen?

The District escort Effie Trinket comes mincing up to the microphone, and gives her usual speech about the Dark Days and the Capitol and all that, before going to the boy's Reaping Ball and preparing to call out a name... Practically everyone takes a sharp intake of breath as she pulls out a slip of paper, and calls out in a loud tone,

"Marcus Nosa!"

All eyes turn to me. Well, this is unexpected. However irritated I feel that I couldn't have volunteered next year, I can't help but feel a twinge of excitement running through me. I can do this now. I'm ready, I think. Ready to win.

Because believe me, I will win.

**ABSINTHE HOBSEN, DISTRICT 12 FEMALE**

"Mina, I know this is a really big ask and all, but... You couldn't go and steal me some breakfast from the baker's stall, could you?" I let my bottom lip quiver and my eyes widen, even letting a few tears dribble into sight. Although I'm fifteen and average height for it, acting younger and more vulnerable than I really am comes naturally. Being a bubbly, cheerful teenager comes just as easily... In fact, most personalities do. Manipulating people has always been my forté, and I generally get what I want because of it.

The girl I'm currently manipulating gives me a look of complete, genuine sympathy and takes one, slightly guilty glance at the baker's. Mina's uncle owns the place, meaning that she can get easy access... I like making friends like her. Friends who can get me things.

"Gee, Abby, I don't know..." she starts apologetically, but I cut her off with a loud sniffle. A look of misery comes onto her pink face, and I can barely stop myself smirking. It is _so _easy. "No, I can't leave a poor little girl like you out here with no breakfast. Wait a second."

And just like that, she practically sprints into the bakery. The childish expression comes off my face for a second as I cross my arms, waiting for her to come back out. After a couple of minutes, I begin to scowl. For God's sake, how long does it take a person to steal some fucking bread?!

Then, I spot Mina's blonde head coming out of the door and immediately switch myself back into starving-dying-orphan mode. She is carrying a steaming bundle in one hand, and she gives it to me with a rather nervous expression on her face, and keeps glancing back at the bakery door like somebody is about to come after her. Putting a timid smile on my face, I unwrap the parcel and breathe in the delicious smell of a meat pastry.

"Thank you so much, Mina!" I simper, tucking it into my coat. There's a proud smile on her face, like she's done some kind of saintly act. Perhaps it's a saintly act in her little mind... but she doesn't know me very well. "I'm going to go and share this with my big brothers! Bye bye!"

And with that I skip off. When I'm out of her eyesight, I stop my skipping and let a scowl come onto my face as I look down at the pastry in hand. There's no way I'm sharing it with my stupid brothers, and there's no way I'm making the long, boring trek back home at all. I'm ready for the Reaping: most people are already walking in a dull line towards the Justice Building.

I eat my pastry, before stuffing my hands in my pockets and doing my best to blend in with the crowd. Hopefully I won't run into any of my brothers or (in the worst case scenario) my father. My family has something of an... interesting history, to say the least.

My father only wanted to have male children. He's clearly under the impression that all females are weak and bow to his will, and was initially pleased with his offspring of three, strong sons. One of my older brothers, Reth, won the 64th Hunger Games, and he loved that. But when my mother told him she was having a baby girl? He became furious. When I was born, he threw both myself and my mother out of the house. He took pity on us and brought us back in, but a few years later, my mother was brutally murdered.

And I'm almost certain he did it.

I register myself before making the walk to the front. On the way, I smash straight into a little twelve year old with dark hair in a braid, and shoot her a glare.

"Fuck's sake, watch where you're going," I growl at her, and she narrows her Seam-grey eyes at me. After snarling at her a few more times, I walk to my place amongst the other fifteen year old girls, ignoring some of their stares. I'm rather famous in this shithole of a district.

Effie Trinket, the Capitol escort, comes up to the microphone and does her usual rant about how amazing the Capitol is, before calling up a boy to the stage. I don't really know who he is, except he looks strong. His hard, arrogant gaze is rather engaging.

"Absinthe Hobsen!" I feel myself freeze. What... I was not expecting this. I didn't even think that this might happen! Oh God, oh Jesus... Pulling my most frightened face, I stare around at all of the others, willing for one of them to volunteer for me... But I suppose the Hunger Games is a circumstance that even my manipulation cannot beat. Resisting the urge to growl, I begin to head up to the stage when Haymitch (the district mentor and a complete drunk) catches me first.

There's a wild grin on his face. "You're called... called Absinthe! Like the alcohol!" he squeezes me hard and I desperately try to get myself out of his death-grip. "I like you."

He sets me down.

Oh my God. What exactly have I gotten myself in for?

**YESSSS, FINAL REAPING DONE! WOOT WOOT! **

**Anyway, I'm about to put up a poll. Choose your four favourite tributes, and the tributes with the most points will have POVs in the Chariot Chapter. There will be twenty four hours (or possibly more if I don't get enough votes, lol) in which you can vote.**

**Thanks. The poll is on my profile **


	14. Chariot Parade

**Wow, the votes just kept coming in! I'll do the top four:**

**Lilit Ailora.**

**Vex Zakhae**

**Archie Summers**

**Neon Skylark**

**Heh, I like to think that the Michael/Lilit relationship is what would have happened to Katniss if Peeta had been unhinged. Just the whole childhood stalker thing ;)**

**VEX ZAKHAE, DISTRICT 1 FEMALE**

Glint and I stand side by side on the Chariot, staring emotionlessly at the huge, golden doors separating us from the screaming Capitol crowds. Even though the great barrier is thick, I can hear their shrieks and catcalls from in here... And once or twice, I make out my own name. Is this what it feels like to be an actress? A famous actress, of course, being interviewed by Caesar Flickerman on television, with the Capitol people knowing your name...

That's what I'm most looking forward to. The idea that if I win, I'll be able to do whatever I want... Back in District 1, they'll _have _to give me Ophelia,or Juliet, Rosaline, Viola... Whichever part I want, will be mine. Because I will be the Victor. Unless, of course, I die in these Games which is certainly a possibility, since I'm no killer and have never taken a life before.

So Glint and I have decided on a strategy. Neither of us are astonishingly murderous, so we're going to give the Capitol what they want by supplying them with as much drama as they can take... Starting with one simple fact. We're childhood best friends.

The screaming gets louder and louder as I feel the adrenaline beginning to rush through my body... I was born to do this. The adulation of the crowd fills me with excitement, and all I want, right now, is to run out there and show them what I can do. I'm not going to be able to run, evidently, since I'm stuck on a chariot. However, I shall show them what I can do, even if reciting Shakespeare is not an option. The music will be too loud, and I'll look like a gaping fish... not what I'm going for.

Suddenly, I hear a loud creaking as the great doors open... The music is practically earsplitting, blasted out of speakers everywhere. Glint and I stand on our chariot, side by side, watching as the Capitol comes into sight in front of us. The horses are spurred into action and begin trotting forward, bringing our chariot with them. The shrieks and cries of the Capitol people fill my ears, and it's almost deafening. As we go out into the brightly lit streets, I feel an excitement bubbling up inside me.

"Glint! It's actually happening!" I cry out into his ear, and he grins at me. Remembering what we have planned, I grin back and reach for his hand, clasping it in mine. "Together?" I whisper, feeling another surge of adrenaline as the crowd screams our names. He nods.

At the same time, we bring our joined hands up in the air, and the screams for us intensify. I can feel chills erupting all over my body as the music fills me entirely, mixing with the screams... This is amazing. This is the true fame, something that I've craved for so long... I'm no particular killer, and the Hunger Games isn't exactly my idea of fun, but this is the best part... I have to act, though. If the Capitol is to love me, I must give them what I want.

Letting my fake smile come onto my face, I beam at all of them, smiling widely as they continue to shriek my name, as well as Glint's. With the hand not being clasped in Glint's, I wave at the crowds, accepting their shouted compliments and blowing kisses... It's not real, for me at least. But for them and maybe even for Glint, I am a sight to see.

Districts 2, 3, 4 and 5 have already emerged behind us, and I can hear them being cheered too... Although none are being adored as much as myself and Glint. District 4 are getting plenty of applause too, which is good because they are a also a Career district. If they are good too, we'll get more sponsor gifts. Come to think of it, I haven't met the District 4 tributes yet. Hopefully they'll be strong and good allies.

But I'll save thoughts like that for later. I can hear the crowds calling my name, and I... I love it!

This is what it's like to be famous. This is the feeling of knowing that you are currently a household name, and I adore the feeling. The acting, to go with it, only makes it feel more familiar and beautiful. Glint, squeezing my hand beside me, only gives me more confidence to keep going.

**NEON SKYLARK, DISTRICT 5 MALE**

Karen tells me that the Capitol people are all dressed in strange, exotic colours. That the streets of the Capitol are floodlit and almost golden as we ride through them in the Chariot, and that there is a particular woman with bright pink hair who is screaming my name loudly. Although I can certainly hear the screams and see the hysterical people, it is all a mash of black, white, grey, navy blue, and khaki green, and a few stinging yellows. Nothing else.

As we speed along after the District 4 tributes, who are both stunningly beautiful in their mermaid and merman costumes, Karen describes the colours to me. She doesn't have to, since I've grown up not being able to see them and it doesn't bother me at all, she seems to think I'm completely blind. In a way that's good, since it'll mean she'll want to protect me in the arena, but it also feels a little patronising. Oh well, death is worse than feeling like a little child for a short amount of time.

Waving one hand in the air, I smile at the crowds. If I thought Calvin was "corpulent", there are a lot of people here who are even worse than he is. There's one man who looks like a hugely overgrown bumblebee, what with the fact that he's in stripes and has the largest rear I've ever seen, but I'd definitely be worse if I was in the Capitol. You would not believe how much cake I have eaten in the last twenty four hours.

The music sends a throbbing beat into my body, and I let my head fall back in pleasure as the vibrations run through my bones. I love music. Back in District 5, where I spent all of my time studying in an attempt to overcome my colourblindness (now identified as "Protanope", according to my mentor Isak), there was no time for music. But here, it sends a shockwave through me that even being electrocuted could never match.

I love this.

"Neon! We want to be colourblind!" a group of teenage Capitol girls shriek from the front row, and it's difficult to stop myself from raising my eyebrows in shock. Why would you want to be colourblind? I'll never understand girls.

I can feel myself going bright red under all my makeup, and try and stop a shy smile coming onto my face. Wow, I never had this much luck with girls back in the District! It feels really funny to have all of these girls going pink like Adrienne did, and saying things like that, although I don't really understand why they do.

But then again, everyone has always called me "The most naïve and socially awkward kid in the district", so I guess that's probably the reason I don't understand. Maybe I will someday, although I'm hopelessly confused for now.

God, how have I actually managed to survive to fifteen years old?

Soon, the circuit finishes, and the screams and music slowly die out as we are aligned in rows in front of President Snow's mansion. The man himself stands there on the balcony, gazing down at all of us. Everything is hushed, and everyone is silent... Waiting for him to speak. I can feel terror rushing through my body as I stare up at the most powerful man in Panem, knowing that he has the power of life or death over me...

He does not look like the sort of person I'd want my life entrusted with. Snakelike eyes, a cold, calculating expression... Suddenly, everything feels a whole lot more real. This isn't just a parade to show us off for our looks. It's not like we'll just be going home after this, feeling all pretty and popular. We are being forced to dance for our murderers... Like a kind of hangman's jig. We hoped for a clean and quick death, and we're being puppeted into "dancing" before we die...

But I will not, not anymore. Before I die, which is more than certainly ineveitable (since knowing how to carve up a cow isn't exactly going to help me, aside from that I know how to hold a knife and wield it correctly-ish), I'm going to show them that I'm not weak.

I will not go down without a fight.

**LILIT AILORA, DISTRICT 10 FEMALE**

I have to admit, my stylist's idea of dressing me up as a giant cow was probably something to do with me calling him "Madame". It's not that he looks feminine, it's just that my mind was on other things, and the words just came out of my mouth. A thunderstruck look came onto his face, and it was at that point that he chose to tell me that I'd be dressed in my current costume. Oh, the fun times we've had.

It was very tempting to flip him off, since I've adopted it as my _Hunger Games Trademark_ (a glorified excuse to be rude), but I decided against it, since I am currently in his power. If he wanted me to come out here stark naked with black spots painted all over my body, with a rotted bulls head squished on top of my neck, I'd have to do so. Although I doubt that'd get me many sponsors.

The President stands up on his balcony, giving his usual speech. Nobody seems to be paying attention, and I spot the District 2 boy leering at me from over on his Chariot. Narrowing my eyes back in an attempt to look threatening- which I doubt is the effect given since I'm dressed as a giant fucking cow-, I make a great show of staring up at the President. After a few moments of occasionally glancing back, I realise that he has averted his eyes and is now watching President Snow too, with a look of amusement in his eyes. Muttering something very rude under my breath, I continue to listen.

"Happy Hunger Games. And may the odds be _ever _in your favour," he eventually finishes, a smile coming onto his puffed up lips. I resist the urge to applaud only by picturing my mother shaking her head at me, before feeling the familiar jolt of the chariot moving forward again. We do one last circuit of the Capitol streets, while I attempt to smile, before going into the Training Centre. The great, golden doors slam shut behind us with a loud, echoing clang.

Almost immediately, Michael hops down from the Chariot and holds his hand out for me to take. I glance at it uncertainly, before gingerly stepping down myself and shooting him an apologetic look, when he looks disappointed. He's absolutely insane, and seems to have some kind of an obsession with me. When we got on the train, he marched straight up to me and started reeling off a list of things about my childhood, and how we used to go to school together, etcetera. It was kind of unnerving, actually, especially when he started complimenting me and informing me that I'm perfect. He was acting like my boyfriend, and like we'd known each other for years. And the creepiest part? I've never spoken to him before in my life.

"You look very pretty," he tells me, as we wait around for our mentors, stylists and district escort to come along. Feeling a slight degree of wanting to run away and hide my head, I nod shortly.

"Thanks. But I am dressed in a massive cow suit." I reply, letting my eyes follow the District 2 boy who was leering at me earlier. He looks weirdly familiar, and I can't quite put my finger on where I've seen him before... But I am absolutely certain I have. Not him, but somebody who looks a lot like him. Hmm...

"Do you think I look handsome?" Michael asks in a completely emotionless voice, and I glance at him. What the hell...? He's dressed up as a giant bull. What am I supposed to say? But he's looking at me with an almost hungry expression in his eyes and, not for the first time, I feel the urge to make a comment about how disgusting I probably taste after years of living on the streets. Perhaps I could claim that my sixth finger was the result of a terrible, nuclear bomb that disfigured me internally, leaving me with guts the colour of toxin and live mutt-maggots living in my stomach?

He probably wouldn't want to eat me if I do that.

Before I have the chance, I find myself being swept up by our mentors, and we begin following them towards one of the lifts at the far end of the room. The boy from District 3 narrows his eyes at me as I pass him, and steps forward.

"Moo." he hisses.

Glaring at him, I bite my lip to stop myself sending an angry retort his way, before walking off towards the lifts. He's not even looking at me anymore, and is instead glaring at the girl from his district: a small girl with dark shadows under her eyes, and gaunt cheeks. Catching her gaze as she attempts to ignore him, we exchange a long-suffering look, before she is blocked from my sight.

As I walk towards the elevators, I like to think that the stares directed at me are because of my blinding awesomness.

However, it is much more likely it's because of the costume. But, and I have to say this, I think I made a very attractive cow.

**ARCHIE SUMMERS, DISTRICT 4 MALE**

Piper and I walk towards where the other Careers are congregated, both completely silent. We were a hit on the chariots, and I can still feel the buzz of excitement running through me. Piper doesn't seem nearly so cheerful: she was great on the Chariots, but seems rather subdued now.

The tributes from 1 and 2 are already chatting in low voices, and turn around when they see us walking in their direction. They all look rather serious, although the girl from 2 shoots us both a playful grin. There's something childlike about her that I immediately like, and as I join the circle, the tension immediately lifts away. These people seem, for once, not to be the entirely vicious tributes that usually make up the Careers.

"Hey, I'm Archie," I introduce myself, and nod my head at Piper who is grinning."That's Piper. We're District 4..."

The girl from 2 is the first to reply. "I'm Kivuta, but the last person who called me that got a fist to the face," she says in a lighthearted tone, extending her hand to both of us in turn. "Call me Kiva."

"I'm Medal," the boy from 2 cuts in, crossing his arms. He's looking at me rather defensively, and I can tell that he's wondering if I'm going to question his evident leadership. There's something about his appearance and his stance that tells me he is going to be the one in charge here, and if I question it, I'll end up in a ditch. Not a pleasant thought.

"Glint," the huge male from District 1 says simply, nodding at me. He doesn't seem too threatening, apart in stature and size, and there's a rather meek look on his face. Glint is standing slightly behind the girl from his district, who is looking at me with her head tilted to one side. When she meets my eyes, she smiles.

"My name's Vex."

The atmosphere is silent for a second, before Medal clears his throat awkwardly and turns to me, a rather disdainful look on his face. "We were just discussing other tributes to join the Careers. The District 8 boy looks like he could take it, and maybe the District 3 boy too." he says, nodding his head towards the boys in question. We all turn our heads to glance at them in turn, my eyes particularly lingering on the District 8 boy who looks larger, before turning back to face each other.

"Anyone else you're thinking might work? They might say no." I reply, mirroring Medal by crossing my arms. A flash of irritation comes onto his face, before he squares his jaw and shakes his head. The other Careers are all watching us now, looks of interest on their faces. It looks like there's going to be some nice tension between me and the boy from District 2... A power play, as you could put it.

"Who the hell would say no to the Careers?" he snorts, rolling his eyes at me. I glare right back at him. We lock eyes for a few moments, before he walks off to find his mentors, quickly followed by Kiva. She nods at us all before she goes, however... Leaving me, Piper, and the District 1 tributes alone. I sigh slowly, and they all laugh.

"He seems pretty intense," grins Piper, rolling her eyes. "But not like an entirely bad guy. And Kiva seems nice."

"I'd watch out for her, though," Vex replies, smoothing her hair down with one hand. As she lifts her arm, I slowly grow more aware of the fact that her Chariot costume is very... um... small. And doesn't cover very much. They always do that with the attractive District 1 girls, but being in such close proximity to someone showing that much skin is surprisingly... Well... I can't really find the word.

"Yeah, it's always the nice ones..." Glint mumbles in his low voice, before walking off to go and find his own mentors. I frown after him. So far, through the short exchange we've had, I don't really know what to think of him. Is he stupid?

Vex shoots us both an apologetic look. "Sorry, he's kind of shy... I'll see you tomorrow." and with that, she disappears into the throng of people.


	15. Training Part 1

**I have the theme tune for this SYOT! www .youtube wa tch?v =LewF aj6Z2Ak (delete the spaces). Good song, good song, and if you've ever been to Thorpe Park... you'll know what I mean... After listening to it on repeat whilst queueing for two hours, I had it memorised...**

**Leo and Jaylin have such a bromance, even though Jay is a girl! Not romance, BROmance. You get the point ;)**

**POVS IN THIS CHAPTER **

**Aeryn Haith, District 9 Female**

**Leo Adessi, District 6 Male**

**Kivuta Seiswen, District 2 Female**

**AERYN HAITH, DISTRICT 9 FEMALE**

We gather in a circle in front of Atala, the Head Trainer. She is talking to us about the rules of Training, and how fighting will not be tolerated, etcetera... I can't help but feel a bit jumpy. Right now, I'd rather like to scramble up one of the climbing nets nearby, and hide from the dangerous eyes of all the tributes around me... However, there's one thing I have that they don't. Agility. And if they can't catch me, they can't kill me, right?

Atala dismisses myself, and I immediately find myself being pushed out of the way, slammed so hard that I almost fall, by the boy from District 3. Glaring after him as he marches towards the spear throwing station, I grit my teeth and look around. I can't get myself noticed, or I'll be picked out as either an easy target or somebody to kill... Be inconspicous, but still get the Training I need.

The question is, how the fuck am I going to accomplish that without hiding behind the Gauntlet and pretending to be dead?

Eventually, I decide to go to the climbing station. There's a large obstacle course, mostly consisting of monkey bars and nets to climb across and over, and even a few hanging ropes to swing from. There doesn't seem to be anyone going in that particular direction, apart from what looks like the District 6 tributes hanging out beside it, chatting in low voices.

They don't seem to be too threatening, although the boy looks like he could be a threat, and they don't even bother to look at me as I clamber up to the station and nod at the trainer standing beside it.

"Go when the buzzer starts." he says to me in a monotone voice, and I nod quickly, feeling my heart pounding hard against my ribcage. Although I can certainly climb trees, this is... different. Am I going to be able to do this? I'm going to have to search for my inner squirrel, as ridiculous as that sounds. So, shaking my bright red ponytail behind me, I prepare myself to run.

The buzzer starts with a loud beep and I start sprinting, going up a narrow platform that takes me into the air. Taking a running leap onto a stepping stone suspended about five metres in the air, I leap from stone to stone, determinedly keeping my balance. They're oh so wobbly, and I can't help but feel like I'm about to fall... But I make it onto the next platform, breathing hard. Glancing down quickly, I notice that the District 6 tributes are both looking at me curiously, and I feel a pang of annoyance. And when I look around, I spot a couple of the Career tributes looking at me similarily. _Shit_.

Don't look like a threat. I can't look like a threat. And I know what I have to do now to make it look like I'd just gotten lucky on the stepping stones... Hopefully I won't break anything important, because this is going to hurt. I leap forwards to grab hold of the first swinging rope and cling to it desperately, before swinging to grab the next one and grabbing on tightly. I can feel their eyes upon me as I swing in mid air, and grit my teeth. Jesus, this is going to hurt.

Doing my best to make it look accidental, I sling the rope backwards and slide down it, clinging on desperately until the last possible moment, then letting myself fall with a hiss. I'm not going to draw any more attention to myself than I have to, so I don't make a loud noise. It's all about tricking the other tributes at this point.

As I hit the ground, hard, I let out an involuntary grunt of pain. I'd manouvered carefully to land on my backside, but it knocks the air out of me all the same. Some of the Careers are laughing, and I walk away, head down. It'd probably be best to work on survival skills, thinking about it, since doing something like that again isn't going to be the best choice for my strategy.

"You alright?" the boy from District 6 says as I slink by him, keeping my face lowered so that my average drama skills don't show that I'm biting back a grin. Turning towards him, at shock that he's noticed me, I raise my eyebrows.

"Yes." I reply cautiously, balling my fists. But he doesn't do anything else, just nods. I notice that he's got a pair of goggles on his head, pushing his hair back from his forehead. Weird.

**LEO ADESSI, DISTRICT 6 MALE**

"She's got cool hair," is all Jay says, when I ask about what she thinks of having an ally. From where we were standing, it was rather obvious that she pulled that fall. The way she lowered herself rather carefully before dropping onto her bum. With that, as well as the rather impressive beginning to the obstacle course, shows that she'd be a good ally. Even if she does kind of look like a squirrel.

"Cool hair?" I question, raising my eyebrows in amusement. Over the last few days, I've gotten to know Jay quite well, and we get along. She's a tomboy and acts like a dude most of the time, and I can roll with that.

She blushes, a look of obvious embarrassment coming onto her face, and shrugs sheepishly. "I have a thing for gingers," Jay admits, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the floor. Letting my mouth drop open, I burst into laughter, even at the murderous look in her eyes. "Not in that way, you moron! I just mean that I like people with red hair. Is that a problem?"

Grinning, I roll my eyes. "Sure... Anyway, do you want to go and train? If the bruises on my arms from playing Pink Car out of the window last night are anything to show for, you can throw a punch."

Jay smirks and nods, and we head to the hand to hand station together. The boy from District 10 is there, his shirt lying abandoned on the floor, laying punch after punch on a dummy. There is a look of fierce concentration on his face, a bead of sweat on his bright red forehead. He seems to be whispering to himself... Wow, creepy much? Seeing his shirt, I grin at Jay.

"Think I could get away with going shirtless? Or maybe you should do the honours." I tease, and she rolls her eyes at me. Sometimes, I wish she was a lesbian so I could say that we have a serious lesbromance (since she's totally my bro), but that would look awkward since she's probably not, despite all the jokes.

She begins stretching her shoulders and I take my shirt off anyway, just to give her something to tease me for. Although we aren't overly attached to each other, since we've only known each other a few days and this is, after all, a game in which we must kill each other... It's almost like it's not real. Not a reality that one or both of us will die.

Walking over to a dummy, I roll my shoulders back and put myself into a fighting stance. Bringing one fist back, I drive it forward into the dummy's head, slightly enjoying the satisfying crack of my knuckles against it. Watching the District 10 boy, who clearly has more experience, I mirror his movements and soon find myself diving and weaving around it, punching for all I'm worth. I can feel sweat dripping down my forehead, but I don't even care.

When I finish, I look up triumphantly to see the District 11 girl staring at me openly across the room. She spots me staring and looks away quickly, but there is a blush on her olive cheeks, and she conceals herself in the crowd. Gazing, I stand up on tiptoe to attempt to find her again, but she has effectively disappeared. Who... who was she? She was so... well... pretty. Realising that my mouth is slightly open, I force myself to shut it before Jay can notice and mock me. However, before I can say anything, I realise that she's standing beside me, a familiar smirk on her face. She hasn't taken her shirt off, but she's rather flushed.

"You were so checking her out, and she totally picked up on it," Jay grins, and it's my turn to roll my eyes at her. This is a death Games, not a place for couples, for God's sake. Feeling a little humiliated at my open-mouthed staring, I scowl at her.

"Alright, maybe I was checking her out. But you have such a girl-crush on hot ginger." I growl mockingly at her, and she glares back, shaking her fringe out of her face.

"Get your head out of your ass, Leo, it's not a hat," she retorts, before giving me a small grin to show she's joking. After pulling my shirt on, we move on to the next station.

**KIVUTA SEISWEN, DISTRICT 2 FEMALE**

I focus all of my energy into throwing the axe. Although I love hand to hand and wrestling, the axe is my weapon and what I've trained with all my life. The fluidity of the weapon flying through the air, the way I can flick my wrist back with such ease... When the buzzer goes for lunchtime, I shake myself out of my reverie and shoot the trainer a smile. He does not return it.

Walking towards the lunchroom on my own, I walk over to the buffet along one side of the wall and pick myself out a plate of stew and a roll. With my tray in hand, I stand awkwardly for a few seconds, unsure of where to sit. Do I go and sit with the rest of the Careers, or on my own?

"Kiva, come on!" I hear somebody calling, and glance to my right to see Piper, Glint, Medal, Archie and Vex sitting at a table already, tucking into heaped plates. Walking over to them, feeling eyes of some of the other tributes on me as I make the walk over to the table, I immediately feel like I'm being judged by everyone in the room for being a Career. Because who knows? I could even end up killing some of them, and we're being forced to mingle.

In a way, despite my upbringing, I think it's even more cruel this way than just unleashing all of us into the arena with no training at all.

Sitting down, I exchange greetings with all of the others, before tucking into my food. I find it a bit uncomfortable to eat in front of near strangers, as odd as that sounds, because it makes me feel like I should act like a girl and eat sparingly and complain about carbs. I've never done that, and I'm not about to start now, but Piper and Vex both seem to be eating a lot more daintily than me.

In District 2, we're taught to grab food and eat it, with both hands if necessary, and to hell with cutlery and table manners. Medal doesn't seem to be as stressed about it as I am, because he's got a chicken drumstick in either hand and is talking animatedly to Archie with his mouth full.

"Kiva, are you alright? Why aren't you eating?" Vex asks, raising her eyebrows with a concerned look on her face. Glancing at her, I notice that she has some spinach stuck between her teeth, and have an internal celebration, as bitchy as that sounds. Makes me feel less alone in my barbarianism.

"Doesn't matter. I had a big breakfast. Hey, Vex, you've got... um..." Unsuccessfully, I try to point out the spinach. How are you supposed to say something like that to a person you barely know? I'm not used to telling people about it at the best of times, since District 2's cuisine mostly consists of rare meat, tough bread and cheap beer... This is vaguely new to me.

As I'm trying to think of a way to subtly point it out, Glint looks up from his large plate of food and glances at Vex, who is having a conversation with Piper about how good the Capitol food is. She doesn't seem to have noticed.

"Vex, you've got spinach in your teeth." Glint says nonchalantly, before turning back to his plate of food and continuing to shovel it in. A small frown comes onto Vex's face as she quickly plucks it out with her finger, and continues her conversation. There is a twinkle in Piper's eye, however, and she winks at me.

Medal turns round, apparently finished talking to Archie, and the group quietens to listen to him. He starts talking loudly about who we're going to kill first in the arena, and I'm a little confused at first. Why is he practically shouting it to the whole room? Then, I realise. He's trying to intimidate certain individuals: the bigger ones. The District 11 boy is one, and the boys from 3 and 9, the girls from 7, 8 and 10... I'm surprised he doesn't mention the boy from District 8, but he leaves him be. I think he wants him to join the Careers.

When we finish eating, sure enough, Medal drags us all straight over to the District 8 boy. He is sitting alone, staring into his empty plate. When he sees us, a slightly nervous expression comes onto his face, quickly replaced by an emotionless glare.

"Hey, District 8, you look tough. Wanna join the Careers?" Medal says, an unreadable look on his face. Although his tone is slightly cocky, I can hear the hidden danger behind it. If this kid says no, then he's dead meat in the arena.

For a few seconds, he is completely silent. I can see that he's thinking about it, unsure whether we're joking or actually serious. I suppose the genuine looks on our faces sways him, because he eventually shrugs and nods.

"Sure." he says simply. When Medal looks at him expectantly, he continues, "I'm Paco."

Frowning at the slightly unusual name, I watch as he stands up in front of us. He's as big as Glint is, maybe even bigger, and there's a menacing air to him that almost scares me. Shaking the slight fear out of my system, I put my I'm-a-Career-so-fear-me expression on my face. It seems to work, because his eyes linger on me a second more than the others. He squares his jaw, and crosses his arms defensively.

Sensing the tension, Vex chooses to interrupt and make some introductions. She smiles at him and extends her hand. "Hey. I'm Vex, from District 1. The big guy who never talks is Glint, my district partner."

Paco shakes hands with both of them, then turns to the others. "I'm Piper, that's Archie," Piper says, clearly trying to follow Vex's example in being friendly to the large boy. "We're from District 4. And those two," she points at Medal and I. "Are Medal and Kiva, from District 2. Keep out of their way, they're batshit crazy." she jokes, and there are a couple of nervous laughs.

Wow. We're one awkward Career pack. Hopefully things we'll all get a little more bloodthirsty in the Games. Hopefully.


	16. Training Part 2

**I'm going to attempt to give every tribute a POV in these chapters. Even if that means more Capitol chapters. I'm thinking four more, including this one. **

**POVS IN THIS CHAPTER**

**Glint Forge, District 1 Male**

**Absinthe Hobsen, District 12 Female**

**Borgy Cotter, District 11 Male**

**Alexandra Reuben, District 11 Female**

**GLINT FORGE, DISTRICT 1 MALE**

Lifting the mace over my head, I bring it smashing down on the dummy. As I do so, I find myself squeezing my eyes shut. The broken body of the plastic dummy reminds me of Callias, when he crumpled to the ground on Reaping Day. I almost can't bear to look at it, simply because of the painted look of misery on it's face. Gritting my teeth, I toss the mace to the floor and march off, attracting the shocked glance of the girl from District 8, who is having what looks like her first lesson with a sword nearby.

Not bothering to glare at her, I feel my shoulders drooping as I double over and breathe, trying to get him out of my head. Come on, I can't show all of these people that I'm weak... I have to stay strong. Taking one last deep breath, I stand up straight and look up to find Piper from District 4 leaning over me, a curious expression on her face.

"You okay there?" she asks cautiously, frowning at me. She has her fists clenched, and is clearly expecting me to have some kind of fit and attack her. Perhaps the expression on my face seems mad... Or perhaps she can see that I've almost been crying. I'm sweating like a pig, I can feel it, so she could just be disgusted. Who knows?

"I'm great," I say in the most cheerful tone I can, smiling at her. She instantly relaxes a little as I return to my usual temperament, and shoots me a grin back. Together, we head towards the fire-making station, and begin attempting to build a fire. Since the other Careers, including Paco from District 8, seem more interested in murdering dummies than doing anything practical, I suppose it's wise for some of us to learn the practical things...

I don't seem to be doing very well at this fire-making thing, since I've only managed to make a couple of barely noticeable little sparks so far. Biting my bottom lip determinedly, I flick a match on and drop it into a pile of slightly dampened wood. There is a weak fizzle, and then nothing happens. Mumbling a swear word under my breath, I try again.

Hearing the sound of crackling to my left, and glance around to spot the girl from 12 standing by a large flame, a satisfied look in her eyes as she stares almost hungrily at the flickering heat in front of her. Before I know what is happening, Piper is standing behind her with raised eyebrows, watching the flames with an intense interest.

The girl from 12 jumps when she sees her, and a nervous expression comes onto her face. She realises that I'm staring too and her expression becomes even more frantic. Her lips are parted a little, and her soft black hair is a little tousled. She's like a cute little girl slightly gone wrong, and is the picture of innocence. Piper with her world weary expression standing behind her, looks a little strange in comparison.

"Where'd you learn to make fires like that, District 12?" Despite the coldness of the question, the girl from District 4 only sounds curious. There is a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth at the sight of the sweet looking girl. Somebody like that going into an arena to try and kill her competitors? Not a hope.

"I don't know," District 12 replies shyly, letting her curtains of black hair fall over her face in a modest fashon. She smiles a little. "I just tried and it worked, I guess."

"Well fuck that," I grumble to myself, staring at the pile of wet sticks in front of me that was supposed to have been a fire. The trainer is looking rather disapprovingly at my terrible attempt, before his face brightens at the girl from 12's. I feel my hands ball into fists at this: I really hate being outdone.

Piper's eyes are narrowed a little, and she tilts her chin slightly disbelievingly. Like she doesn't quite believe that anybody could be that perfect and small, and like she knows something I don't. For a few moments the girls exchange stares, and I watch as District 12's green eyes flash with something a little darker. Then, she smiles widely as she turns to look at me and bats her long, dark eyelashes.

"I'm Absinthe," she says, clearly sensing that Piper has sensed something about her that I haven't. I'd be obliged if she'd tell me exactly what she thinks is wrong with the girl from 12, but from the flare to her nostrils, I can tell it's something bad. Absinthe holds out a hand to me, smiling charmingly. "It's nice to meet you."

"Glint," I reply, nodding to her and taking her hand. It's very small compared to my large paw, and I can practically feel the delicate little bones in there. If I wanted to, it would be extremely easy to break every bone in her hand. "And the grumpy one is Piper."

Absinthe laughs at me, and squeezes my hand before letting go. "I'm surprised a boy like you is talking to me," she says, and her tone has gone back to shy. Over her shoulder, I can see Piper making sick gestures and waving her eyebrows frantically.

**ABSINTHE HOBSEN, DISTRICT 12 FEMALE**

The District 1 boy is falling for it, line and tackle. The whole "Get Me, I Make Fires Instantly" thing? Well... I stole a guy's lighter. He was this District 3 Victor up visiting Haymitch, and he kept flicking this lighter on and off. Stealing it out of his pocket was easy, and I pocketed it myself for future usage. And it looks like it's come in handy, since I don't know the least thing about making fires.

Glint is still with me; that's a good thing. The girl who was looking at me all suspiciously, Piper wasn't it? Well, she's gone back to the other Careers, and they're discussing something over by the Gauntlet in low voices, occasionally sneaking glances back towards us. I'm pretty certain I know what they're discussing... I'm just going to have to be likeable, I suppose. I spent all of yesterday training with a tomahawk axe, and my wiry strength came in handy for wielding it. I'm not great, but I learned a couple of tricks that may or may not impess them.

"Are you any good with weapons?" Glint asks gruffly, still looking envious at the sight of my merrily blazing fire. Oh if only he knew... I can practically feel the lighter burning a hole in my pocket, and it's not even on. You would not believe how much I'm enjoying this, I promise you. Manipulating the Careers is going to be a difficult one, but I'm sure I'll do it in the end.

And even if they don't fall for it, I'll kill them in their sleep...

Keeping my innocent smile on my face, I nod. Alright, perhaps I don't look like a natural killer, but that's part of the plan. Appear mediocre with weapons, but charm them into it... Show them my tricks, but don't appear too deadly. Nobody to target. A friend, not an enemy...

Glint gives me a small nod, and begins taking long, powerful strides towards the other Careers. I scurry after him, feeling a bit insignificant next to his huge physique. None of the other female Careers look too big this year, but Glint, the boy from 4, and the boy from 8 are huge. The boy from 2 isn't as large as the others, but has a dark expression in his eyes that makes me fear him more than the muscle-bound machines.

He narrows his eyes at me as I walk over to him, head held high. A small sneer comes onto his face as Glint takes his place beside him, a slightly uncomfortable expression on his face. "What did you bring us? New meat?" there's slight humour in his tone, and I immediately feel myself relax. He's to be taken seriously, of course, but I can't help but fear him a little less now. There's a tiny pinch of kindness in his eyes, amongst the rest of the Career animalistic attitude. The others all laugh at his words, and I can feel all of their eyes upon me. The girl from 2 steps forwards, a slightly confused look on her face.

"What's with her?" she asks, walking around me and surveying me like a cattle for slaughter. I can't help but feel a little irritated; what does she think I'm here to do? Have a cup of coffee? When she's done circling me, she turns back to the others with raised eyebrows, staring particularly at Glint.

"She doesn't look tough. Pretty, I suppose, but she's small and doesn't look like she'd survive being slapped round the face. We don't have much use for her, do we?" the girl from 2 continues, and I feel her harsh gaze upon me. Although her words are meant as an observation rather than an insult, I can't help but feel myself boiling with anger. Once we get into the arena...

"Kiva, she's good at starting fires. That'd keep us warm. Plus, she says she can use weapons." Glint replies, coming to my rescue. I can't help but feel a twinge of gratitude towards him; the tributes from 2, although not looking particularly unpleasant, do seem like they'd rip me to shreds given the chance. The girl apparently called Kiva shrugs, and steps back to stand next to the girl from 1, who is eyeing me just as curiously. Piper simply looks annoyed.

They close in on themselves and begin a debate: I think that Glint, the girl from 1, the boy from 8, and the boy from 4 are in favour of me joining. The other three are not, but are overruled. When they turn around, the losers have rather irritated expressions on their faces.

The Careers introduce themselves quickly, before the boy from District 2, Medal, states in a rather angry tone, "No more Careers. You invite any more, you get thrown out. Am I perfectly clear?" We are all silent, but he seems to understand and quiets down, turning his gaze to me. "Alright then, District 12," Medal continues, crossing his arms and lifting his chin challengingly. "Let's see what you can do."

**BORGY COTTER, DISTRICT 11 MALE**

"So let me get this straight," I say to the boy from 6, who is standing in front of me with raised eyebrows, a rather jumpy expression on his face. "You want to start an alliance called The Anti Careers?"

The idea seemed rather absurd to me at first. He has just approached me and bluntly asked me if I'd like to join his alliance, currently consisting of himself and the girl from his district. She is a little shorter than him, and has short brown hair that sweeps down and covers her eyes at the front, and a rather lopsided smile. They both look surprisingly strong for District 6 tributes.

"Yeah," he says. He speaks very quickly, almost like he's trying to sell you something, and it gets a little difficult to keep up with him. However, there's a friendly, genuine gleam in his eyes that keeps me from politely hitting him and moving on. "Jay and me, we were thinking about it last night. And we figured if the Careers can do it, so can we... So, would you be interested in joining?"

There is a hopeful puppy-dog look on his face, and I can't help but smile. There's something about him, something about the way he randomly has biker goggles pushing his hair back out of his face, and the wide smile and scruffy appearance he has that makes me like him.

So, I shrug and nod slowly. What's the harm? It might mean my death comes a little later, especially since both of these two look like they might be able to fight. As I'm a knife thrower, I'd be right at home with two other tributes with a vague knowledge of weapons, like myself. "Yeah, alright. You're on."

His smile instantly widens, and he holds out his hand to introduce himself as Leo. Jay, the girl already in his alliance, comes up and shakes my hand too.

"I'm not entirely sure how he managed to drag me into this," she grins, rolling her eyes. "But I'll do it anyway, since saying no to that face he does makes you feel like you've murdered somebody."

I chuckle, and stand in front of my new allies, rather pleased with myself. Bringing back my fist, I punch Leo affectionately on the shoulder... Wincing, he takes a few steps back and rubs his sore spot, shooting me a glare. Jay bursts out laughing.

"I love you!" she informs me, a wide grin on her face and tears of mirth threatening to dribble out from her eyes.

Leo shoots her a slightly reproachful look, before shaking his hair out of his face and sniffing slightly contemptuously. "Yeah, at least I don't have a crush on hot ginger." he replies, and she lets out a half scream and starts attacking him, her face bright red. I'm almost reminded of my own relationship with Cleo as I watch them playfully fighting, and then I feel my heart sink. In a few days, they'll probably be fighting each other for real, not just landing pulled punches on each other's backs.

When Jay eventually detaches herself, her hair now impressively mussed, I smile at her a little awkwardly, unsure of what to say. "Sooo... How long have you guys been together?"

This brings them both back into minor screaming fits, and I'm half wondering who on earth I have allied with, when Leo shakes his head at me, squashing his own laughter. "Borgy, we aren't together like that," he says, rolling his eyes at her, while she sticks her tongue out back. "She's just my bro."

"I'm a girl!"

"Dude, I never knew..."

Trying to stop them from engaging into another very weird fight, I say a little desperately, "So, who else have you been considering for the Anti Career-"

But they're already fighting again. Bloody hell.

**ALEXANDRA REUBEN, DISTRICT 11 FEMALE**

I watch the District 6 tributes play-fighting from across the room, while Borgy from my District tries desperately to split them up. It's getting pretty heated: the boy is attempting to wrestle her off his back, while the girl hangs on, punching him repeatedly in the arm. I'm not really sure why, but she appears to be very intent on one particular spot... Weird?

Borgy shoots me a helpless look from across the room, and I try to stop myself laughing, twirling a xiphos in one hand. The boy from District 6 is... um... very attractive, let's say, and I found myself looking at him earlier. He'd just been at the punching bags, and had taken his shirt of at one point. Sometimes, when you're a straight girl, it can be difficult to stop yourself staring at attractive, shirtless males. It wasn't just me: the girls from 3, 5 and 7 were pretty riveted too.

Now he's gesturing for me to come over. Borgy, that is. I think he wants me to come and help split up the fight, since the Peacekeepers don't seem to be bothering as it's not serious. But I really don't want to face the boy from 6 after he caught me staring at him yesterday, as that would be horribly embarrassing. But now they've stopped and all three of them are staring at me, and Borgy is still beckoning me over... I can feel my cheeks flushing red, but it would be worse to walk away now.

Continuing to twirl the xiphos, I walk towards them and stop a few metres away, smiling shyly.

"Guys, this is Alexandra. She's my district partner, and she's pretty awesome," he says, shooting me a grin. "She should join the alliance. Her parents have been training her to be a Peacekeeper, so she's pretty strong..." he trails off awkwardly, blushing red at the amount of compliments his childish self has given me. "For a girl, anyway."

"You trained to be a Peacekeeper?" the girl says, raising her eyebrows in shock. I nod back, and slowly, a smile comes onto her face. "With real life weapons and everything? That is so cool! I wish I'd-"

"What Jay means to say," the boy cuts in, shooting me a rather dashing smile. I feel my heart flutter a little and have to control myself by thinking about the fact that we're going to be in the Games together very soon. A Games to kill each other. "Is that we'd love for you to join our alliance. That's Jaylin Hearn, better known as Jay," he points over his shoulder at the girl from his district, who is too busy watching somebody else to notice the introduction, "And I'm Leo. Leo Adessi."

We talk for a little while about who else we'd like to add to our alliance, weighing up the pro's and cons of surrounding tributes. Some of them are too small, or too shifty looking, or too generally demented seeming (in the case of the boy from 10, at least). After a few moments of deliberating, Jay speaks up.

"You know, I think that we should have... what's her name... Aeryn. You remember, Leo, the one we saw doing the obstacle course yesterday? The-"

"Hot ginger," he cuts her off, a triumphant smirk coming onto his face. "I knew it! Let's be honest, I mean, les-bi-honest..."

Before they can start fighting again, I interrupt to tell them that perhaps we should actually go and _look _for the girl in question. I'm not really sure what this whole "Hot Ginger" thing is about, but I'm guessing it's an inside joke. From the bemused look on Borgy's face, I'm guessing he wasn't included in it.

We eventually find Aeryn by the edible plants station, where she is cracking open a nut between two fingers, deliberating on the pressure she needs to crack the shell open without damaging the inside. When she realises that we're behind her, she lets out a squeak and whips around. However, when she notices that we're not the Careers, she relaxes a little. However, her composure still stays defensive.

"Hey, hot ging- I mean Aeryn," Leo starts a little awkwardly. She frowns slightly at the stumble he makes, but soon returns to looking emotionlessly defensive. "Basically, we're starting up an alliance called the Anti Careers. We were wondering if you wanted to join."

For a few seconds she is silent, narrowing her eyes a little, before saying quickly, "How do I know I can trust you not to kill me in my sleep?"

I'm a little taken aback by her bluntness, but I suppose her question does make sense. In fact, I'm rather wondering that myself. Leo is silent for a moment, flawed, but eventually finds an answer.

"Because there'd be no point in it. Killing an ally would mean one less person to fight the Careers, and that's not what we need. When the time comes that the Careers are gone and the odds are fair, we'll split. It'd be stupid to do otherwise."

Aeryn stays quiet, clearly thinking about her choices. We all focus on her, interested, before she eventually answers. A small, slightly adorable smile comes onto her face. "Alright then." she replies.


	17. Training Assessments

**Just to say, I've found the real Matthis Elder song... It's called The Light Behind Your Eyes, and it's by My Chemical Romance. I know I seem to have some kind of obsession with that band for tribute songs, but this one is just perfect for him. I'm not even kidding. Give it a listen. **

**MEDAL AMMOLITE, DISTRICT 2 MALE**

I sit idly in my chair, toying with a chicken drumstick in one hand. Glint has already gone in for his Training Assessment, and he seems to be taking forever. I wonder what he's doing in there? We can't hear anything, of course, but I can't help but imagine he's got into some sort of trouble. Hurt himself, maybe? I doubt it. He's too much of a giant to hurt himself, even if he can be a little klutzy...

Archie glances at me over from his conversation with Vex, spotting my glazed look and the half eaten chicken leg in one hand. He raises his eyebrows. "Hey, Medal? You dead?" He's joking, of course, and everyone else at the table laughs... But I can't help but feel a little strange. Give it a few days and I really _could _be dead... No, come on. I can't afford to think like that, not now. I will succeed where my brothers have failed. I have to.

Otherwise I'll be a failure, and I can't have that. Not after all this effort my mother has spent training me. I have to go back and get back to Maria, and to my mother. Disappointing them is not an option, not now. I'm strong, I'm smart, and I'm everything my brothers weren't. I have to do this.

"Alive and kicking," I reply, winking at Vex who rolls her eyes at me. She and Archie quickly go back into their conversation, and I zone back out. Those two spend a lot of time together, like Piper and Glint used to. Piper's looking put out and the moment, though, since Glint is dedicating all of his time to the new girl, Absinthe. There's something about her that I don't like... Something a little off. I can't trust anybody in these Games if I want to survive. But that Absinthe... It's something about her eyes. If I believed in witches, she'd be their Queen. Creepy.

Vex is finally called in, and waves Archie goodbye before stepping through back into the Training Room. He watches her go, a slightly unreadable expression coming onto his face, before he turns back to me.

"What do you think Glint did?" he asks, raising his eyebrows. I consider his question for a few moments, before shrugging back.

"No idea. He took his time about it, though, whatever it was."

And with that, Archie butts into Piper, Paco and Kiva's conversation, leaving me on my own. I can feel eyes on the back of my head, but I refuse to turn around. It'll be Absinthe staring at me again, with those terrifying eyes... If it was up to me, I'd kick her out right now. But she scares me too much for that, and I know she could work Glint and possibly Paco against me. When we're in the arena, I'll just kill her as quickly as possible before she does anything that can really hurt me.

Then, I hear my own name called and get to my feet, walking up to the door where both Vex and Glint previously disappeared into. I hear the other Careers shouting advice after me, before the heavy door slams shut and I find myself back in the Training Room. I'm alone aside from the Gamemakers up on their balcony overlooking it, and the Peacekeepers flanking the doors. Trying not to let my nervousness show, I step up in front of them and stand imperiously, holding my head high.

"Medal Ammolite, District 2." I inform them, before turning around and grabbing a sword from the rack and settling my grip on it firmly. Taking a deep breath, I fix my eyes on a row of dummies in front of me... Then, I tear towards them with a fierce war cry and bring my arm back. With all of my might I swing the sword around... Two dummy heads fall to the floor. My sword, in one strike, has beheaded two dummies.

I don't have time to congratulate myself for this mean feat, however, and I swish around quickly to embed my sword into a dummy's chest. Then, kicking it backwards, I slash the sword round multiple times, "killing" countless dummies.

When I'm eventually done, and I'm standing amongst dummy heads and limbs galore, I feel a proud smile threatening to come onto my face. I've done it! If they don't give me a ten for this...

**CANZI LESTAT, DISTRICT 3 FEMALE**

I like Matthis a lot. More than Wiress and more than Copper. It's like he's the only one who understands why I have to win, the only one who realises that if it was just for me, I'd run straight into the boy from District 2's sword. My brother will be shot if I don't put on a good show and win. It's not like I've got much of a chance anyway: I'm pretty sick, undernourished, and the smallest tribute here.

But I've killed a person before. How many of these other people can say they've done that? It comes easier than it should, the art of taking a life. When I told Matthis that, he looked at me like I was deranged and asked me if I was feeling alright. No, I'm not feeling alright. I'm half fucking crazed, the idea of killing another person terrifies me, and the only reason I'm not calling my shots right now is that Asa will die.

I have to win for him. There's no alternative. I love him too much.

"Canzi, your turn to go in." glancing upwards, I notice that both Karen and Dimity are looking at me. Dimity and I started up an alliance on Day 1, and Karen joined yesterday when she realised that the boy from her district isn't looking for an alliance with anyone. They both mother me a lot, which is kind of weird. Something about being used to defending people. I've always had to take care of myself and Asa, so it's kind of weird having two people who want to defend me... Oh well, if I'm going to come out of this alive, I'll need all the help I can get.

Truly, I know that the likelihood of me winning is near zero. But if I don't try, there's no chance at all.

Getting up, I grin at both Karen and Dimity before walking through into the Training Room. I can feel Copper's eyes on my back and grit my teeth, clenching my fists hard enough to make the knuckles go white. He's been harassing me ever since we got on the train... He stopped doing it verbally last night because I went after him with a carving knife at dinner. His face was pretty amusing, even if I did get screamed at by the district escort. I also had my cards confiscated.

Rude.

Stepping through into the Training Room, I walk to the centre of the training room and look up at the Gamemakers. They don't seem very interested in me... I'm going to have to remedy that. This goes against everything I care about and every single moral I have... But winning these Games will require the same thing. I don't want to remember doing this, but this is the only way...

Walking over to one of the dummies, I pull it down from it's stand, letting the Gamemakers go back to their idle chatting. I stand it up on it's two legs, making it mimic a human. Then, I go over to the camouflage stand and grab two pots of paint: one black, one red.

Dipping my finger into the black, I paint a human face onto the dummy's own, before taking the red paint and writing one word on it's stomach. **DAD**. I can feel my heart racing, knowing that I'm about to do the single sickest thing anyone has probably ever done in these training assessments. Last night, I was awake all night debating whether to do it or not in my mind. It could go disastrously wrong, but I'm willing to take the risk.

I turn back to the Gamemakers, and begin to speak. "You may be aware that I killed my father," I inform one or two of them, who are looking at me curiously by this point. "I used the blunt end of a woodcutting axe." stepping towards the axe station, I pick up one that looks a little like the one I'm describing. To be honest, I can't remember what weapon I used, it was too much of a blur, and it wasn't even me who delivered the killing blow.

Raising the axe over my head, I slam it hard into the dummy I prepared. The room is silent now, and I can feel every eye on me. Letting my face contort with rage, I switch it round and begin to beat "DAD" over the head, crushing the head of the dummy and beating away at it. I feel sick, and this is probably the stupidest, most irrational thing I've ever done in my life... This has to look genuine. I have to convince the Gamemakers I'm completely, violently insane... God, I actually want to be sick. It's like I'm killing my father all over again.

When I eventually finish, I empty the red pot of paint over the mutilated dummy and walk out without being dismissed, red paint all over my hands.

The second I get back to my room, I run to the toilet and am violently sick. Tears streaming out of my eyes, I curl up into a ball and sob. If I don't put on a good show, Asa is dead... This is the only way...

**ROWAN MASON, DISTRICT 7 FEMALE**

The smell of cleaning fluids is so strong, as I step into the Training Room, I feel my eyes beginning to water. A rug has been hastily dragged over a spot in the middle of the floor, and I gaze at it in confusion. What the hell happened? Has somebody died?

I'll have to ask Johanna about it when I get out of here... She'd know. I can see a red stain on the floor, peeking out from under the rug, and I feel a twinge of nervousness at the sight of it. Somebody went too crazy and hurt themselves, I'm presuming.. Why couldn't they just clean the blood off, though? The stuff marked onto the floor looks like it's an actual stain, not just some dried blood...

The sound of a cough makes me look up, and I realise that most of the Gamemakers are staring right at me. God, I've been standing in the same place for about a minute, trying to work out the mystery of what the hell stained the floor... Okay, come on, Rowan. Copying your sister and getting a low score isn't going to work, since falling for another person doing that would sure be stupid. I have to focus on actually getting a reasonable score.

I play around with axes for a little bit, throwing them and hacking at dummies, before my time ends and I walk out into the lobby. Jared is out there, waiting patiently for the lift, and he nods at me when I move to stand beside him. He doesn't talk much, Jared, but he's not bad. From the few words I've managed to get out of him, he seems alright.

Jared is, however, large and dangerous. I wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of him. Not at all.

"How'd you think you did?" I ask, stepping forward as the lift doors open and we both step in. Just as the doors are shutting, the District 8 boy hurries in and pushes the doors back open a crack, slipping in beside us. Neither of us acknowledge him. He stands there, completely stoic... He's part of the Careers. Looks like one, too. He's even bigger than Jared, which isn't normal for a kid from District 8.

Buildwise, he kind of reminds me of the boy from District 8 about seven years ago. He came second by about five seconds, and started singing as he died. He's become a bit of an icon in most outer districts, Cobain. People kind of hate the boy from District 3, Matthis, who ended up winning. I don't think it's fair: he was smart and a worthy winner. Cobain just chose to sacrifice himself, and that was his choice.

"I think they liked me," Jared says shyly, shrugging his large shoulders. "I threw weights and used an axe... Nothing out of the ordinary."

His voice is almost comedic compared to his huge stature. It's quite high, and sounds like it should belong to a poet or a writer, not a physical wonder like him. Oh well, it's something that sets him apart from the other thuggish looking boys, which is a good thing. It makes him stand out. Johanna likes him, which is rare, since Johanna doesn't like anyone. That includes me, and I'm her sister. She mentors me, sure, but she seems to have some kind of attachment to him that makes me feel kind of jealous. I am her sister after all. It hurts my feelings that she'd rather spend time with him than me, however childish that sounds.

Maybe because it hurts to much to spend time with someone who's going to die.

**PACO CUTTHROAT, DISTRICT 8 MALE**

I sit at the window, gazing out at the Capitol streets. Out there, I can see them partying, counting down the time until the Games begins. On a building across from my window, there is a huge projection of a clock, counting down the hours, minutes and seconds until the Games starts. It's like it's some kind of celebration, like New Years. Gazing down at them, I feel a vague bubble of fury coming up in me. What is all of this?

Twenty three children will die. In any other context, that would be called a "Tragedy" or a "Terrorist Attack". If twenty three Capitol children died, there would probably be a day of national mourning that all we district folk would be made to go along with. Wearing black, covering our heads and whatnot...

The way the District 7 tributes looked at me when we were in the elevator. Disgusted eyes, as if I'd betrayed them somehow by joining the Careers. It's like being back in the orphanage again: Flax threatened me, and if I didn't fight him every day, I'd die. The Careers threatened me, and if I didn't join them, I'd die. Perhaps, if I was braver, I'd be able to disagree.

But that's me.

Winning this... I don't have anyone to go back to. Dimity has people to go back to: her younger siblings, who are surely suffering without her. It's a matter of life or death for me, really. Everyone wants to be a good person, but nobody wants to die. If I'm going to do the right thing, which involves dying so she can get home, I'll have to die. And I don't think I want to.

The idea of endless darkness, never moving again... It scares me. There are so many others here who need to go home, who deserve to go home. Dimity, she deserves to go home. I'm sure there are multitudes of others who have family who needs them. I have no family.

I'm not going to give up. At the moment, I don't know if I'll be fighting for myself, or somebody else. Somebody who deserves to win. Whether it is to look after family or to make a life for themselves, I don't know. I want to go home. Go back to the orphanage where I'd soon be able to move out and make a life for myself away from all of this. Get married, have kids, get my own room in the tenement... Sounds attractive. Not. If I win this, perhaps I'll do better of myself.

"You should go to sleep," turning around, I spot Dimity standing in the doorway to her room. I'm out in the dining room of our apartment, not wanting to be in the stuffy confinements of my room, since I don't have a window in there. Out here, the window takes up the whole wall. "Don't want to disappoint your dear Career friends."

Her tone is spiteful, but I can hear the genuineness that is Dimity behind it. The solidity, the kindness, and the determination.

"I'm not tired..." I reply shortly, before turning back to the window. There are couples dancing out there, now, to loud music, each looking more extravagant and foolish than I could ever dream of. They don't have to worry about a thing, these people. They get their lives handed to them on silver platters. Suddenly, feeling a flash of anger, I burst out, "The world is so ugly."

She pauses for a second. I can picture the look on her face: anger and spite. What do I have to be complaining about? I'm a Career.

"Yeah, sure." Dimity replies. I hear her walking away but then, at the last moment, she swivels around on her heel. "By the way, Paco, when you win, can you please tell my siblings I'm sorry? It's not like I'm going to die."

And with that last retort, she leaves.

I can understand why she's so upset: she doesn't understand what I've got to be complaining about, and I've helped make her life hell for years.

But I am right. The world is ugly.


	18. Interviews

**Sorry, had tests all week. Urgh. Heh, the update would have been out tomorrow, if not for my friend Natasha. She decided (as a reader of this story), to come and punch me repeatedly on the arm until I agreed to write it today. Much like Leo and Jay, apart from the fact that I don't have a bruise, and she is a ginger. Go Tash, the original Hot Ginger. **

**The Training Scores will be revealed at the end of this chapter. I honestly can't be bothered to do a whole chapter on them, because they're always boring to read. So... yup :D **

**KAREN NOCHEZ, DISTRICT 5 FEMALE**

The lights are flashing so bright that I feel like my eyeballs are about to explode. Everything about this situation reeks of extravagance... It comes off the three foot tall wigs in the audience. The interviews haven't started yet, which is something of a good thing, because I feel a little ill. Since arriving in the Capitol, I haven't exactly been picky in what I eat, and today's lunch was certainly... substantial.

I haven't felt more sick since the train ride here, when I felt like my stomach was going to explode and splatter my innards all over the place. Eww, okay, that's not the nicest thought... That's like something Canzi would say. Both Dimity and I mother her a little, since she's young and looks rather sick in appearance, but she's not childish at all. She scares me a bit, even. Not a physical threat, but she seems to be into... well... mind games. Creepy.

Glancing at Neon, who is standing behind me, I shoot him a small smile. He doesn't return it, but nods. I can see the anxiety in his facial expression. From the impression I've got of him, he doesn't seem to be the sort of person who likes attention like that. Adding to the fact he's the most socially stunted person I've ever met.

Suddenly, the lights onstage brighten suddenly, and Caesar Flickerman appears onstage, a wide smile on his face. He begins with introductions and I watch him slightly sourly. Sometimes, I wonder why the Games are made such a spectacle of. It's pretty cruel... Well, I did have fun deciding on an approach for these interviews. I'm thinking funny, with a touch of snarkiness to keep the banter going.

At least, I hope I'll be able to keep the banter going.

The girl from District 1 goes onstage to rousing applause. She is looking very pretty, and I watch as a couple of the male tribute's mouths fall open. The boy from 4 is looking particularly dumbfounded. When I turn round to glance at Neon, however, I notice that his jaw is set.

She plays the crowd well, but does it differently than your usual District 1 ditz. She speaks with intelligence, which is pretty rare for a female from her district. The boy is completely the opposite: not the brightest tool in the shed, perhaps. But he isn't bad at all, and seems like a good kind of person. A bit like an oversized puppy.

District 2 both play it vicious, although the girl seems a bit more cheerfully murderous about the whole situation than the boy, who looks dark and brooding (the Capitol women love this, of course). He also talks about his older brother who was in the Games, and gets a fresh round of applause for that.

Then, it's District 3. Canzi does something rather strange: she doesn't play up the cute little girl attitude I'd expect. She's fourteen, but certainly could be younger if she chose to play it that way. What she does is much stranger. She speaks in riddles, does card tricks, and appears to be playing games with the crowd. It's rather disturbing to watch, and I can't help but groan at my ally She's not this weird in real life. What is she doing?

The boy is similarly creepy, but he is a lot politer and seems rather respectable at first, and intelligent at that. Then, the topics go darker and darker, and soon he has the crowd on the edge of their seats. Both kids from 4 play it as typical Careers, and they too are crowd favourites.

Then, as the boy walks offstage to loud applause, I gulp. My turn.

I walk out onto the stage, clenching my fists nervously. The audience gives me a polite applause, but I can see they are a lot more interested in bloodthirsty, deranged Careers than a normal girl from District 5. It's almost irritating, actually, especially since despite the fact that they laugh a lot at my interview, the applause I get is light and could barely be called applause. But I won't complain: they'll see more of me in the arena. I hope.

**JARED OAKWOOD, DISTRICT 7 MALE**

The girl from District 5 comes off to light applause, looking rather neutral. There is a twinge of upset in her eyes, though, and she glances at me as she walks by. Rowan is standing in front of me, the girl from District 8 behind. Neither of them look particularly happy, probably because of the fact that I'm sweating the place out.

Ever since I killed that man back in the district... Well, saying I've been on edge would be an understatement. Jumping at the tiniest sound, raising my fists in readiness for a fight whenever anyone walks towards me... I beat up my mentor, Blight, for drunkenly walking into my room in the middle of the night. Of course I was very apologetic. I... I thought he was the ghost of that man. The man I... killed.

Blight was pretty annoyed about the whole situation, however, since I broke his nose and split his lip. Johanna found the situation very funny, although nobody else seemed to share her amusement. I certainly didn't, since he's going to be in charge of getting me sponsor gifts in the arena.

The boy from 5's interview doesn't go well. The Capitol wants violence, romance and insanity... He gives them a lecture on how to correctly mix alkalines without causing a toxic gas, whatever that means. I'm not actually sure how the topic came up... To be honest, I think he just started talking about it without reason.

Both tributes from District 6 play it funny, and the audience perks up for them. The boy has some very good banter with Caesar, and the girl throws one of her high heels at him from offstage for referring to some kind of relationship between her and a ginger girl... Although she does get pulled off by Peacekeepers, it's a big drama. Which, of course, the Capitol adores.

Next, it's Rowan's turn. She grits her teeth and shuts her eyes quickly, before cementing a winning smile onto her features and walking out onto the stage. There is loud applause for her; why wouldn't there be? She's Johanna Mason's sister, for goodness sake.

She manages to effectively create a sob-story, before walking off to huge applause. A few of the other tributes join in, but stop the second she walks backstage with a thunderous expression on her face. Rowan marches off into the elevator, barging past the kids from District 12. I hear a loud sob, before the elevator doors slam shut.

There are a few moments of awkward silence, before I realise that it's my turn to go onstage. Shit! Feeling my heart speed up even faster, I take a deep breath and begin to shuffle out onto the stage. Come on, Jared, you can do this... Caesar Flickerman smiles his huge, unnatural smile at me, and beckons me over. I do so, shyly, trying to keep my face from contorted into a horrified stare.

"Jared! Come sit down, come sit down..."

I do as he says, attempting to keep the peace. It's like being sat in front of a crowd of aliens, really, and I can feel the terror pulsing through my veins. They are all staring at me, like I'm supposed to do something... Should I say something funny, or leave that to Caesar? God, I don't know what to do...

"So, Jared, how are you enjoying the Capitol so far?" his question catches me off guard, and I stare at him like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Caesar nods his head, encouraging me to answer, and I swallow. God, I must look ridiculous: a boy of over six foot, quivering at the thought of a single question. Come on...

"It's great." I manage to spit out, and there are a couple of mocking laughs from backstage. Resisting the urge to run off now, I stand my ground nervously. Well, sit my ground.

There are plenty more questions, and I manage to get out answers, before stumbling offstage, hiding my face. There is no applause at all, and a few mumbles. Feeling my face flushing red, I push through the hordes of tributes, and get into the elevator as quickly as I can. Clenching my fists, I attempt to stop my shaking as I thump the button for District 7 countless times.

Eventually, the doors shut and I sink to the ground, trying to stop a panic attack taking over my system and controlling me. Taking deep breath after deep breath, I feel the elevator whooshing upwards and nuzzle my mouth into my knees. It's a nauseating ride, I'll tell you that.

Please let me not show reluctance in the arena. I can't show reluctance. If I want to escape this thing alive, that is.

**RYE HARRID, DISTRICT 9 MALE**

The boy from District 7 just sprinted offstage. I don't think his time was even up, but things had been heading slowly downhill... Poor guy. He seems shy, and he must've been hating it out there. I know I'm not going to like it, not at all. I've never been one who really does well in an interview-esque situation, and there's no doubt in my mind that I'm not going to get any attention at all. But perhaps that's a good thing.

If the Careers don't notice me, maybe don't even notice I've died, they'll hopefully not realise that I'm still alive and won't come searching for me. That means I'll have a higher rate of survival until, at least, they realise that I'm not around and come searching for me. Which will only be a matter of time, of course, but I'll be buying myself time. That's all that matters for now.

Practicality is important. Sponsors aren't too important. Once they see me holding out in the arena, they'll see I'm somebody to root for. If I don't hold out in the arena, then I'll just have to find another way. Because I am not giving up without a fight.

The girl from 8 goes on next, and follows Rowan Mason (Johanna Mason's younger sister, and the one who most of the attention is on, due to her sister's celebrity status) in an impressively sad sob story. She talks about her younger siblings, and how if she doesn't get home to them they'll probably die... Sad stuff. But then again, they all could be making it up. You never know.

Her district partner is pretty good too, although he mostly just communicates in grunts and glares. His huge size and threatening demeanour makes up for it, and he cuts an impressive figure on stage next to Caesar. I get the feeling that he's definitely going to be getting some sponsors, looking like he does.

Then, it's Aeryn's turn. She's still brick red from the District 6 kid's interviews, and lets out a deep sigh as she walks onstage to loud cheers, wolfwhistles, and catcalls. There is a reluctant smile playing at the corners of her lips, however, and I can see she doesn't really mind.

It's a very funny interview, especially with how increasingly uncomfortable she gets althroughout. The best moment, for me, was when Caesar asks the killer question:

"So Aeryn, would you register yourself as homosexual or bisexual?"

Brings the house down. She grits her teeth, and I can see that she's trying to steady herself from lashing out. Then, in a slow voice, as if repeating something to a stubborn three year old, she replies,

"Hetero-bloody-sexual. Straight. Straight as a ruler."

"A bent ruler, perhaps?"

She takes this as the final straw, and I can see herself readying for a rant, when the buzzer goes off and she stalks offstage. I can't help but feel a bit sorry for her: she's no doubt going off to kill both of the District 6 tributes.

I walk out onto the stage to a modest applause. Some people are still laughing cruelly from Aeryn's interview, and I feel a burst of annoyance. Can't they realise that it's all an elaborate joke that two certain individuals took slightly too far? Or three, if you count Caesar. But it is getting rather wearing.

My interview goes reasonably well, and I get a pretty good applause. Nothing too standout, as I'd planned, but I'm looking at a couple of sponsors, hopefully. I pass by the District 10 tributes, who are having a hushed conversation. From what I can hear, it contains a lot of swear words from the girl's side.

**MICHAEL RIDER, DISTRICT 10 MALE**

"No. We are not having a camera romance." Lilit mutters, her arms firmly crossed in front of her chest. She's being so stupid. Can't she realise that the Capitol would love a romance between us? And it would be brought to a crashing conclusion as I declared my love to her dead body, and kissed her ice-cold lips...

"They'd love it." I whine, loud enough for the remaining tributes (both from 11 and 12) to hear. They all glance at us strangely, but I know that the boys are both secretly jealous that I'm talking to Lilit. She is so beautiful in that red dress that I just want to rip it off her.

She sighs, and replies in her monotone, deadpan voice, "No, I really don't think they would. They'd call us... Milit, or something, and that's never going to happen. To be honest, I'd rather be punched in the face, have my innards torn out from my still breathing body, burned in front of me, and be made to eat President Snow's shit whilst having Caesar Flickerman perform live brain surgery on me. I'd rather all of that than become Milit."

I don't have time to question her more, before my name is called out and I am forced to walk onto stage and abandon my poor, confused girl. Caesar Flickerman smiles warmly at me, but I'm sure he's only putting it on. It's not like he cares about any of us. He sees tributes year after year, pretends to like all of them, but he can't like every single one of us. Nobody can like that many people. Plus, I'm sure his face hurts from all that smiling. Poor man.

"Ah, Michael, Michael... How are you enjoying the Capitol so far? What's your favourite thing about it?" he asks, leaning in far too close for my liking. Up this close, I can see the ridiculous amount of makeup plastering his face. He looks like a transvestite. I read about them in a book my father owns (I'm not entirely sure why he owns it, since it's full of nude people in silly positions). He's the spitting image of a transvestite.

"Are you a woman?" I ask him politely, trying to keep my tone normal. It's not polite to be rude and brash about the whole situation; I have to be careful. The Capitol audience erupts into laughter for some reason, and a frown comes onto Caesar's face.

By the time I leave the stage, the smile on the host's face is most definitely strained. I hope it made Lilit laugh, because otherwise it would all be a complete waste of time. Back in the wings, I stand by her, waiting for some kind of compliment or congratulation. She shakes her head at me, a bemused expression on her face.

"I'm adding having a live jabberjay stuffed up my anus to to the list of why I don't want to be Milit." she says shortly, before walking out onto the stage.

Although I'm very offended about her jabberjay comment, her interview is very, very funny. Caesar asks her what she did in training, and she replies that she didn't do very much because she was feeling a little ill after overeating.

"So what did you do? I'm sure the trainers wouldn't just let you stand there." Caesar says, pulling a comically shocked face. Lilit thinks for a moment, before shrugging, leaning forward in her chair.

"I did horizontal running." she replies in a monotone voice. The Capitol goes into uproar as her buzzer goes off and she leaves the stage, a neutral expression on her face. She doesn't stop to talk to me and carries on into the lift without even looking.

"Hey, Lilit, wait!"

**All of the tributes who have not had a Capitol POV will have one in the Bloodbath. Do not worry ;P**

**SCORES ARE AS FOLLOWS**

**DISTRICT 1**

**Glint Forge - 9**

**Vex Zakhae - 8**

**DISTRICT 2**

**Medal Ammolite - 10**

**Kivuta Seiswen - 9**

**DISTRICT 3**

**Copper Astridei - 8**

**Canzi Lestat - 7**

**DISTRICT 4**

**Archie Summers - 9**

**Piper Cavendish - 10**

**DISTRICT 5**

**Neon Skylark - 7**

**Karen Nochez - 5**

**DISTRICT 6**

**Leo Adessi - 7**

**Jaylin Hearn - 7**

**DISTRICT 7**

**Jared Oakwood - 8**

**Rowan Mason - 9**

**DISTRICT 8**

**Paco Cutthroat - 8**

**Dimity Chiffon - 6**

**DISTRICT 9**

**Rye Harrid - 6**

**Aeryn Haith - 7**

**DISTRICT 10**

**Michael Rider - 7**

**Lilit Ailora - 8**

**DISTRICT 11**

**Borgy Cotter - 6**

**Alexandra Reuben - 10**

**DISTRICT 12**

**Marcus Nosa - 6**

**Absinthe Hobsen - 5**

**Yup, there we go... Tash (ie. The real life Hot Ginger) says hi. **


	19. Bloodbath

**COPPER ASTRIDEI, DISTRICT 3 MALE**

I rise into the arena. At first, after the darkness of my tube, my eyes are blinded by the bright sunlight and I let out a low hiss, shielding them with one hand. It's boiling hot, here, and I can feel the rays of sunlight practically burning through the grey, skin tight bodysuit I am wearing. When I look around at the other tributes, wearing different coloured bodysuits depending on their district, I see that they are all gazing in wonder at something up above us.

Feeling my heart pounding against my ribcage, practically bursting through the tight lycra of the bodysuit, I glance up at what they're all staring at. And my mouth practically drops open.

A volcano, huge and impressive, towers above us. There is no lava spewing from its mouth (yet…), but it still sends a pang of fear into my already thumping heart. Gritting my teeth, I bring up a hand to shield my eyes again so I can admire the arena more closely without damaging my eyes. A large volcano sits in the centre of a huge, lush rainforest. Trees and plants obscure my vision going too far, but I spot a crystal clear stream cutting through the countless trees in front of me, and there is the unmistakable sound of a waterfall crashing onto rocks.

Ordinarily, I'd be enchanted by a place of such beauty like this. Everything about it… The sound of the animals communicating in the woods, the lazy breeze swishing through palm fronds… When I look out as far as I can, standing on tiptoe on my small pedestal, I realise that we are on an island. The faint sound of waves lapping at the shore confirms it, and I can see a long line of blue.

This island paradise will soon become a horrific site of blood and murder.

Grinning to myself, I ready myself on my pedestal to run to the Cornucopia, as a voice travels through the clearing in which we are situated. A countdown has begun. A countdown to when we can run to the Cornucopia and begin fighting for supplies and weapons. The people in the Capitol must be beside themselves right now, placing their final bets on who will win and who will die… I wonder how much money is on me? Given the fact that I'm probably the oldest tribute, and one of the larger ones, I'll probably have quite a bit…

29… 28… 27…

Getting so tantalizingly close now. I can practically feel the blood on my hands now, as I set my eyes on a spear lying next to a green backpack. They're practically mine already… I check either side of me, to see if either of my competitors are scoping out my particular backpack. No… The boy from 8 has his eyes set on a huge, spiked mace a few feet away from the actual Cornucopia, and the girl from 2 is looking at a set of throwing knives a couple of metres away from the spiked mace.

This should be a breeze, then. Run in, grab weapons, run out. Then, plan what I'm going to do to make the sponsors notice me. It's not wise to get into a fight with the Careers, not yet. They'd kill me far too easily, and I can't have that happening. Best pick off my easier opponents first.

10… 9… 8…

So close. So close. Some of the other tributes look fearful, others excited, others completely unsure about the whole situation. A few spots to my right, I spot Canzi. There is a look of both determination and pure terror in her eyes; although I can see she is trying to extinguish the terror. Oh, bless her. Poor little thing.

Everyone dies. Including her. Especially her.

**PIPER CAVENDISH, DISTRICT 4 FEMALE**

Oh God… I can feel my skin tingling with fear. All of these other tributes are staring at me like I'm a monster, created specifically to kill them… Although, in a way, I am. I'm a Career, raised from birth to murder them. Perhaps, if it wasn't for the Reaping being rigged, I wouldn't be here at all. There were no plans for me to volunteer, nothing like that. But here I am.

I have to win. I don't want to die. I'm not ready to die, and I'm more than certain it's not my time. Please, I just want to go home.

3… 2… 1…

Before I can register the fact in my mind that the countdown has ended and the Games have officially begun, I find my legs moving so fast I can barely process what is going on. I'm heading towards the Cornucopia at ridiculous speeds, and my heart is practically in my throat. If I stop running I know I will trip and stumble, as my legs have gone strangely weightless, so I just keep going. Then, I smash into somebody and fall backwards with a shriek.

Scrambling to my feet, I find myself face to face with the redheaded girl from 9 who is looking at me with wide, fearful eyes. We just stand there staring at each other for a few moments, both too in shock to do anything at all. She could easily kill me: there's a large, sharp knife in one hand. But it's dangling limply by her side. All I can see in her eyes is fear, not bloodlust.

Then, she's running and I'm running too, but in opposite directions this time. She's sprinting away from the Cornucopia, and I'm barreling towards it. When I eventually reach it, I find a weapon's rack and immediately grab a trident in one hand, a machete in the other. Turning around, I bring myself into a defensive stance as I slash wildly at the air, trying to hit somebody… Everyone is screaming and running around, trying to snatch up weapons and not die… Then, I hear somebody let out a yell of pain, and a vibration runs up my arm.

I look down in horror to see the boy from 7, impaled on my machete. He is gripping the metal with both hands, desperately trying to dislodge it from its place in his stomach, and is screaming and thrashing like a fish out of water. Blood spurts everywhere, covering my hands and arms, and trickling down towards my shoulders. I don't know what to do. God, what am I _supposed _to do?

He's huge, larger than me, and has much superior strength. In fact, I think he's going to kill me before he dies himself, because his large, calloused hands are wrapped around my neck and he's squeezing… Then, he lets out a shudder and his mouth opens, and blood splashes out… His grip weakens and he falls to the ground, a knife in his back.

Looking up, I spot Kiva, a determined look in her eyes. She shoots me a small, sad smile, before running off with a knife in either hand. I stand there for a few moments, gaping, as the red blood of the now dead boy from District 7 splashes down me… Then, I jump into action. Gripping my weapons as hard as I can, I grit my teeth and run into the fray of fighters. Hopefully, with my training and superior weapons knowledge, I'll survive this day. But I don't know if I'll be able to kill another person. In fact, I'm almost surprised Kiva managed it: she's one of the most cheerful people I know. But apparently that leaves her here, because the look in her eyes back there was not cheerful or kind. Not the Kivuta Seiswen I'm used to.

Gritting my teeth, I begin slashing at random, not wanting to have to feel the pain behind my movements. There are several screams as people fall, but they all get up and move on. I've only managed flesh wounds. Well, at least I can say that I tried when I'm questioned on my kills later by the other Careers.

I spot Medal running towards the boy from 9, with a sword in either hand held high. There is a look of fierce concentration on his face as he raises the swords high… The boy from 9 hasn't even noticed him, and is rifling nervously through a bag… The metal connects with flesh, and I have to turn away as there is a long, drawn out shriek.

When I look back, I find myself gagging. The boy from 9's torso is lying in a spreading pool of red blood, his head lying feet from his body. Medal…. Medal cut his head off. Oh God. I watch in horror as blood begins to spurt out from the stump like a fountain, adding to the already large puddle of the red liquid.

**MARCUS NOSA, DISTRICT 12 MALE**

I stand hopelessly amongst the carnage, unsure of what to do. There are people bleeding everywhere. This year, the Careers seem to be preferring injuring people than actual murders, since there have only been two deaths so far. The girl from 4 was running around, just a second ago, with weapons waving wildly, an animalistic look in her eyes. It was terrifying. She didn't seem to be aware that people were running for cover from her. It was like she'd gone completely mad.

Holding a club in one hand, a knife in my belt, I hitch my backpack onto my back and begin to run towards the rainforest where everyone else seems to be escaping to. Putting one leg in front of the other, I keep running towards the woods… And just when I think I've escaped, I feel myself being pulled backwards and into the air. Thrashing around like a beetle, a foot off the ground, I realise that I am being pulled up by my backpack straps. No! Let me go!

"Let me go, you bastard!" I yell, and am answered with a low snarl. It's the boy from 8, and there is a look of murderous intent on his face. He swings me in mid-air, a look of dark, practically unrecognizable hatred in his dark eyes. I try and unhook my arms from the straps, but it's impossible at this angle.

"I have to do this. They'll kill me otherwise." The boy mumbles, before lifting up his mace in the other hand. I stare it in horror and continue trying to escape: I bite and rip at his hands, trying my best to make him let go of me. He has to let me go! I can't die!

He brings the mace back with one hand, a look of slight reluctance on his face. Let me go… please… please…

But he lets out a deep sigh and brings back his hand. No… please… please… Then, it's swinging towards me, and I can feel it coming before it even makes impact. It connects with my chest and sends me swinging out of his grip, flying. My body's failing. The pain is pulsing though me, as I feel my breathing coming more difficultly. I can't see anything. Nothing is going through my mind but my own pain, and the need to keep breathing. Come on, Marcus, come on… But I can barely even feel the pain anymore. I… I think I've hit the floor. The impact blows the remaining air out of me, and I feel a rush of blood splashing out of my mouth. And then, the feeling's gone. I can't feel anything anymore. I can't remember anything anymore.

Darkness is pulling at the edges of my eyes, threatening to pull me under. It's coming to me, trying to pull me out of this world… My body's failing. I think I've hit the floor. I don't remember anything anymore.

**DIMITY CHIFFON, DISTRICT 8**

All I can see is the girl from District 7 and the boy from District 3. I'm waiting for Canzi and Karen to return from the Cornucopia, where they are hurriedly still stashing supplies, but I can't take my eyes away from them. He has her by the throat and is choking her, a look of dark amusement in his eyes as she struggles, desperately trying to free herself. They're away from the Cornucopia, only metres away from where I'm hiding. All of the remaining tributes, save the Careers, are gone now. They've disappeared into the rainforest.

I can see the light draining from her eyes, and know that I should march over there and stab him in the gut. It would be the right thing, since I'm armed, and she's not… But… but… I can't. The idea of killing a person, even if they are evil and bad and all things that mean a person doesn't deserve to live… I can't bring up the nerves to go over there and end him. I just can't do it.

Soon, the spark disappears from her eyes and she falls to the ground with one last cry… Its Johanna Mason's sister, Rowan. I bet the Capitol is happy that she's dead; they've been able to get their revenge on Johanna. Everyone knows that the Capitol hates her for some, unknown reason. And now they've killed her little sister. Silently, I look up at the cameras. How would I feel if my little sister died? I'd be destroyed. Broken. Somebody I'd spent so long trying to preserve, just… gone. I'd want to know what they'd been thinking about in their final moments. I'd be horrified.

All that time spent protecting… would be for nothing. And now Johanna has nobody. Nobody at all.

Feeling a pang, I bow my head in shame at the cameras, before watching the District 3 boy stalking off, triumphant with his kill. Something occurs to me. Johanna must want that boy dead right now… Perhaps it would be the right thing to do to kill him myself? To make up for the fact that I didn't save her sister here? Or, if I can't do it, perhaps I'll be able to persuade Canzi or Karen to do it for me. No… I'm a fighter. I will beat him. I'll beat all of them.

Glancing over at the field, I watch as Canzi and Karen run towards me. There is an extra backpack on Canzi's back, and when they reach me, she slides it off her shoulder and hands it to me. Leaning over, now obscured from the Careers by the thick trees, she leans over to hold her knees, taking deep breaths. Karen leans against a tree, wiping sweat from her forehead.

"We've all got packs… And you have weapons?" I question. They both nod, holding up a variety of different weapons. They did surprisingly well, although I do notice the fact that Karen has a large, bleeding wound on her shoulder, and Canzi has a painful looking gash across her cheek. I feel rather guilty for not getting into the fighting myself, especially since what they went through to get me a backpack, and feel a wave of gratitude.

"I'll patch up your wounds once we get a little further away. Maybe we should head to the beach?" I ask, and they both nod. For a few more moments we stay completely still, unwilling to move, before Canzi begins trudging in the vague direction of the beach.

"Come on," she calls back to us. "After all that, I don't want to get caught now."

**JAYLIN HEARN, DISTRICT 6 FEMALE**

I nurse the wound on my stomach. Although Aeryn helped me bandage it, it is still bleeding rather horribly. That stupid District 4 girl slashed me while she was waving her weapons around at random, and it went pretty deep. I thought I was going to die, actually, but I managed to crawl inside the Cornucopia where I hid for most of the Bloodbath. Then, Leo, Alexandra, Borgy and Aeryn found me and managed to get me to the woods before I collapsed.

We're currently somewhere deep in the rainforest, having used the stream to guide us. Borgy and Leo half supported, half carried me here, and they're both lying on the ground now, out of breath. Alexandra is looking similarly tired, although Aeryn is looking in her prime. She led us here, and got extremely confused at the fact we were all completely out of breath by the time she finished.

She doesn't seem to run out of energy very easily… Oh God, if Leo could read my mind, he'd be turning this all into innuendo. Like the Hot Ginger thing. It's so awkward when I'm talking to her, now, because I can see that she's just thinking "LESBIAN! LESBIAN!" with every word. But no matter how many times I tell Leo to shut up, he keeps the joke going. It's getting so annoying.

"Hey, Jay, did you enjoy it when Aeryn bandaged your-"

Borgy thumps him. Everyone laughs, including Leo: with me in my current condition, somebody has to stand in and hit Leo. I really do like him, even if he is an irritating, slightly obnoxious git. He's a nice one. I don't fancy him or anything, he's definitely not my type, but he's a good friend. He made a joke about us being "bro's", and I literally punched him in the face. Sometimes, he does get a little too much.

We'll move on once I've healed a bit. We've come to an agreement that we'll move on every twelve hours, to stop ourselves getting tracked down by the Careers… Because the Games have truly begun now. Truly begun.

**24. Jared Oakwood, District 7**

**23. Rye Harrid, District 9**

**22. Marcus Nosa, District 12**

**21. Rowan Mason, District 7**


	20. Day 1

**LILIT AILORA, DISTRICT 10 FEMALE**

Is it strange that I think there's something more to the arena than just a volcano with enough lava packed into it to burn us all to ash, and psychotic animals with a wish to tear adolescents to pieces? That sounds pretty bad in itself, sure, but I think there's something more to this place. Oh, I'm sure the Capitol citizens love watching young children getting eaten alive by insane monkeys, but the fun has gotta leech out of it quite quickly.

There isn't much fun at all in being attacked by crazed apes, actually. I should know. There is currently one attached to my shoulders, attempting to tear my head off.

Hissing in pain, I feel the creature's sharp claws digging into my shoulders, into the tender flesh of my neck. I can feel the skin breaking as it clings on, and begins ripping at the fabric of my bodysuit. I can smell it's putrescent breath on my cheek, as it tries to gain a settlement on my neck and I continue to thrash around, blundering through the thick canopies of trees.

Didn't I tell you that animals hate me?

Sweat pouring down my forehead, I cry out again as harsh nails dig into my scalp and buck my head backwards, attempting to get the creature off me. Blood pours from the shallow wounds down my face and dribbles into my mouth, and I spit out the tangy substance in disgust. How the hell am I going to get this thing off me?! It doesn't seem to be moving in for the kill... It seems to be just trying to get a firm grip on me. This is probably for the Capitol's amusement. I bet they're PISSING themselves laughing at the sight of me running through the jungle, screaming, with an insane monkey on my shoulders.

Switching my technique, I turn around so my back is facing the trunk of a huge tree, my heart pounding wildly. I'd be more afraid if I thought this monkey-mutt was out to kill me, but it doesn't seem to be. This is clearly some cruel prank on the Capitol's part.

Withdrawing the long knife I managed to salvage at the Cornucopia, I run backwards at the tree as quickly as I can, readying myself to smash my whole body-weight against it. However, at the last moment, the mutt switches position and clambers onto the top of my head, meaning I go crashing into the tree myself. Falling unceremoniously to the ground, humiliated and swearing, I watch as a monkey face comes into my vision, upside down. There is a triumphant smile on it's face.

"Fuck you." I mumble, rubbing my aching head as I get to my feet, silently cursing the Gamemakers in my head as I do so. _Oh how amusing_! But then, before I can move or get to my feet, I realise that a shadow has come over me. And, looking up, I see the smirking face of the boy from District 3. My heart stops.

"Cute monkey," he says mockingly, rolling back his shoulders and pulling a wicked blade from his belt. I eye it fearfully, clutching my own, much shorter knife in one hand. He's larger than I am, and I'm on the floor with a damn monkey sitting on my head. Not a fantastic situation to be in.

I stare him out, getting to my feet and crossing my arms. The monkey hops down delightedly from my head and scampers off into the undergrowth. Damn it! The boy from 3 sniggers and kicks dust after it, before turning back to me and taking a step forward. He is uncomfortably close now, and I can see the bloodlust in his dark eyes. Then, his grin widens.

"You're kinda cute, District 10," he says, his eyes flickering up and down my body. I flinch, knowing where this is going. Why do the crazy ones always like me? Never any normal boys, no, just the ones that want to cut off my skin and wear it. "How'd you feel about..."

He's getting a bit handsy now, and I can practically hear alarms going off in my head. God, what am I going to do? The only thing I can do... I'm not going to take this, not from this sexist pig. I have rights!

"Touch me again and I will tear your hands off." I reply coldly, stepping further towards him. Never show them you're scared... But he doesn't seem to see this as a threat, more as an invitation, because he gets even handsier. Alright, enough is enough. Bringing up one leg as hard as I can between his legs, I knee him in the crotch. He doubles over in pain but quickly regains his senses, and punches me hard in the chest.

With a snarl, I bring my foot round in a roundhouse kick and send him flying to the ground, but he grabs me by the ankle and pulls me with him. We end up in a heap on the ground, and he soon converts it to bring himself above me, straddling my stomach. His nose is bleeding, and the blood is trickling grotesquely down his face. I struggle against him, but he has a knife in hand now, and is dangling it above my face.

"Any last words, District 10?" he hisses, and I struggle ever harder. Shutting my eyes, I try and hold onto my life. I will not die... I will not die... I will not-

_Boom!_

For a few seconds, I think that it is myself who has died. Who else could it be? But where is the blinding pain, the bright lights going off in my head... I open my eyes, to see somebody staring curiously down at me. There is a little blood spattered on his cheek, and I realise that there is a dead weight on my body. Looking down, I groan in disgust at the sight of the boy from 3 lying on top of me, a knife in his back.

Pushing him off, still clutching my own knife, I get haphazardly to my feet and stand opposite this mysterious boy. I can't actually remember who he is... We stand still for a few moments, before he bites his lip awkwardly. His fringe covers his eyes, so I can't actually see them.

"Hey... um...Sorry about that. Stealing your kill or whatever. I thought he was gonna... I don't know... violate you. My mother always said to help a lady in distress."

I just stare at him, slightly disbelievingly. Is this kid for real? If so, then how the hell did I get so lucky?

He holds out a hand awkwardly, and I take it. He looks down in alarm at my extra finger, and I feel his grip slacken for a second, before he sighs and continues to shake. Hmm, nobody's ever gotten past the hand before. This kid has passed test number one.

"I'm Neon," the boy says, after letting go a little uncertainly of my hand. "District 5."

"Lilit. District 10."

He smiles a little mirthlessly and nods, before turning to walk away. I feel myself sigh with relief. I thought he was going to ask for an alliance, and that could never work. At the last possible second, Neon turns around and nods at me.

"Good luck."

"Back at you."

**KAREN NOCHEZ, DISTRICT 5 FEMALE**

Okay, it's official. Canzi is completely insane. She dragged us out onto the beach to stitch up our wounds and sort out our packs, and she's just started shuffling cards. Who the hell brings a pack of cards into the Hunger Games as their token? Well, she does, apparently. She and Dimity have created an impromptu gambling game, and are trading these strange nuts we found. It's very odd to watch, especially since there don't seem to be any rules and Canzi has been cheating shamelessly since Dimity started winning.

"Pass them all over." Canzi says, a satisfied smile firmly in place. Dimity scowls, muttering something about cheating, before handing over all of the nuts. The girl from 3 pockets most of them, but puts a handful into her mouth. Her cheeks bulge out like a hamster's, and I can't help but laugh. Sometimes, it's like she's actually _trying _to entertain the Capitol, for whatever reason. Sponsors, probably. I've got no idea at all.

"So what's the plan next?" I ask, trying to dissuade Dimity from asking for a rematch, as she clearly wants to do. They both glance round at me from their seat on the sand, looking a little curious. Eventually, Dimity shrugs and leans back on the sand.

"I'd suggest we wait until the tribute count has died down a little bit," she says with a shrug, glancing at both of us for approval. I nod, but Canzi looks a bit more uncertain. Or perhaps that's just her natural look, since there are a lot of very strange things about her. The way she never stops moving, the way she talks so quickly you can barely pick up on what she's saying... Weird girl.

"But we're going to need to help the tribute count go down," the girl replies shortly, cracking her knuckles. It's very funny when she does it, because she's so small and sickly looking that she couldn't hurt a person if she tried. Or maybe she could, through sheer energy and insanity. I'm not sure which of the two she has more of. "Gotta kill if you want to survive... Right?"

"So you'd kill people... just like that? Dimity replies, a frown on her face. They look at each other challengingly. "Some of these people... Kids. You're a kid. I'm a kid. So... why do we have to kill? For what our forefathers did?"

With each word spewing out from the girl from 8's mouth, Canzi gets paler and paler. She keeps glancing up nervously at the sky, as if expecting Gamemakers to send down giant robotic birds to kill us. After a few minutes of Dimity raucously badmouthing the Capitol, with Canzi getting more and more agitated with every word, she explodes.

"Will you shut up!" she snarls, and a look of shock comes onto Dimity's face. I feel my heart speed up a little bit. What is going on? Seeing our confused stares, the girl from 3's face turns pink and she stares at the ground. For a few moments she is completely silent, before sighing. "I'm sorry. But I'm going to have to quit this alliance soon."

Seeing the affronted looks on both of our faces, she swallows. "I want to go home, like... I need to. Not just for me. If it was just me losing my life because of this, I'd be... It's difficult to explain. But if I don't get home, somebody else dies. Somebody close to me. I can't explain it to you more than that, because I'm scared about what will happen if I do... What the fuck was that?"

Gripping her small axe, she stares around wildly. There is a look of fear on her young face, and she seems to sense something... But what can she hear? Cautiously getting to my feet, I brace myself for an attack... Nothing comes. We stand back to back for a few moments, with Dimity still sitting there, a look of confusion on her face. Then, he's upon us.

The boy from District 10.

Letting out a scream as she is pulled up into the air by the boy, Dimity thrashes wildly in mid-air, trying her hardest to get free. She is a foot off the ground and trapped in his arms, as he squeezes her in a terrible bearhug. Her face begins to go red as he holds her there, a sadistic, half mad look on his face.

"Put her down!" I snarl, taking a step towards him, but he just squeezes harder and she whimpers in pain. Canzi grabs my wrist and pulls me back, an unreadable look on her face as he stares both of us down, darkness in his eyes.

"Step back!" he growls. "Come near me and s-she dies!" as if to prove his point, he tightens his grip and Dimity begins to struggle for breath, a look of panic coming onto her features. She stares at us desperately, willing us to do what he says. For a few moments, we are both still. Then, I open my mouth again and begin to speak.

"What do you want?" I reply harshly, not dropping my sword to my side as Canzi has done. When he does not reply, I let out a sigh of impatience. My heart is thumping hard against my chest, but I must think rationally in this situation. If we all want to come out of this alive, that is. "Answer me."

He pauses for a second, a considering expression on his face. Then, he smiles, and I resist the urge to shrink back. There is true madness in his eyes. "First thing... If you see my sweet Lilit, my district partner, you'll leave her be. She's... she's mine. All mine. Her life belongs to me. And second of all, I want all of your food and supplies."

My heart is beating faster and faster at this. What the... He doesn't want us to kill his district partner, his "sweet Lilit" because he wants to kill her himself? Wow, this guy is a nutjob... Raising my eyebrows, I open my mouth to speak again, but Canzi cuts me off.

"No way." she says flatly. He narrows his eyes at her, before tightening his grip around Dimity who hisses in pain and begins to fight. But after the boy squeezes extra hard she stops, panting for breath.

"Canzi, it's only one opponent. One girl we can't kill. Isn't that... um... reasonable?"

She looks at me blankly, and then realises. "Oh... I was talking about the food. But yeah... um... I guess that is reasonable... Uh..."

Shrugging, she picks up her backpack and throws it at the boy from 10, a look of contempt on her face. It skids in the sand and lands exactly at his feet. For a few moments I stare longingly at my own pack, then Dimity's, and toss them towards him. All three land in a weak pile at his feet and he smirks.

"Good, good. I'll let your little friend go... for now... But remember our deal. Kill Lilit, and I'll... I'll... I'll rip you to pieces. I'll tear off your skin from your still living body and eat your quivering flesh. Understand?"

Canzi and I both nod multiple times, and he eventually drops Dimity dismissively to the ground. She sprawls on the sand and quickly gets to her feet, panting and retching and holding her stomach, doubled over. The boy from 10 shoots us one last, horrible smile, before picking up the backpacks and running off into the jungle. We stare after him hopelessly.

All our supplies, aside from our weapons. Gone.

**ARCHIE SUMMERS, DISTRICT 4 MALE**

A cannon went off a little while ago. Medal was furious at the sound, realising that another tribute had been killed... and not by us. As the Career pack, we're supposed to be the ones who kill everybody. But even after hours of hunting last night in the jungle, we haven't found a soul. We chased the District 5 boy for a bit, but he lost us pretty quickly. Medal was gnashing his teeth for hours after that.

We sit in a circle around a fire now, in the clearing of the jungle where the Cornucopia is. The volcano, huge and rather spectacular, looms above us threateningly. Lava could spew out at any moment... But I think the Gamemakers will wait till a little further into the Games for that bundle of joy. Where's the fun in killing off the entire Career pack only a day into the Games? The audience would hate it. But soon, we will leave this spot for the beaches on lower ground.

"Personally, I don't understand how we haven't killed anybody out of the Bloodbath yet," Medal mutters, watching the flames murderously. "All those chances in the woods... And the damned District 5 boy got away. What is with that?"

"It's not like he wasn't fast as hell," Vex reasons from beside me, and I turn to glance at her. She's always been the maker of peace in these situations, and the one who calms everyone down. There's something steady and calm about her that I really like. It's helpful in a situation like this to have someone like her around. "We'll catch him soon."

"Let's just hope he doesn't turn into a faggot like that boy from District 8 a couple years back and start singing," Glint laughs, and we all chuckle. Paco, however, stays silent at the obvious jab at his district. I'm rather surprised at Glint, actually, since he's never showed any outward nastiness until now. I suppose the arena brings out the worst in people, but I hope he'll stop this soon.

Kiva rolls her eyes at him, stretching out on the ground like a cat. "Weren't you paying any attention at all?" she giggles. "He had a thing going on with that District 11 girl. He was cute, not a faggot. And by the way, calling somebody gay is not an insult."

A couple of us agree to that, and a debate is soon started up as to whether the word faggot should be used as an insult. Eventually, it is agreed that while there is nothing wrong with being gay, nobody wants to be called a faggot. After a few seconds of silence, Absinthe turns to Piper with a mischeivous look in her eyes.

"So, Piper, would you ever get with another girl?" she asks, raising her eyebrows. Piper splutters with shock, and we all burst out laughing. The girl from 4 shoots the asker an angry look, narrowing her eyes. Absinthe stares back. There is a flash of something dark passing between them, and there is a rather awkward silence. Vex eventually breaks it, after coughing, clearly embarrassed.

"Shall we change the subject? Who are we going to go for next? I was thinking that alliance, you know, the kids from 6 and 11, and the ginger from 9? They'd be good to get out of the way-"

But the well-meaning girl is cut off as Piper gets to her feet, an angry look in her eyes. She walks over to Absinthe and stands over her, crossing her arms furiously.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, District 12?" she snarls, and there is a glint of true danger in her tone. We all fall silent from our own conversations and all attention goes to her and the girl from District 12. But while Piper's glare is furious, Absinthe seems to look... upset? What is this?

"I'm sorry to upset you, Piper," she says softly. "It just... came out. I say things sometimes without meaning them."

But the girl just scoffs, clearly seeing something fake about the whole thing that nobody else does and rolls her eyes, sitting back down. But she is clearly not appeased.

As I watch them both, I realise one thing. We are not in for an easy time.


	21. Day 2

**There ARE Bengal Tigers in the rainforest. I repeat THERE ARE.**

**Be warned, this chapter gets a bit freaky at the end. Like, it might creep you out. It's the Canzi POV, just to warn anyone who's scared of... the undead... and strong gore. Please feel free to skip Canzi's POV, it is not pleasant at all. I, for one, did not enjoy writing it. **

**JAYLIN HEARN, DISTRICT 6 FEMALE**

The birds are particularly loud this morning. They were whistling and tweeting to one another all night, to the point that it got rather annoying, and I barely slept a wink. We sit beside the stream in no particular order, just lounging wearily and trying to stop ourselves delving into our rather small food supply. Until the time comes that we find a way of getting more food, we're stuck. Aeryn attempted some hunting earlier this morning, but came back with a sour face and several bruises from falling out of a tree. We're stuck without food, now, and it does not feel good at all. The bandage on my stomach seems to dig into my gut, if possible making me feel even hungrier. And it's only been a day in the arena; how will it feel in a week?

"This is ridiculous!" Alexandra eventually snarls, surprising us all with her sudden outburst. She's usually the quietest one in the group, but she doesn't seem to be in the mood for any of that now. There is a heated look on her face as she gets to her feet, holding a long sword in her hand, a slightly shorter club in the other. "We need to get something done. Sitting around all day isn't going to accomplish anything. I think we should split up and go hunting for food." she deliberately obstains from saying _people_, although I'm sure that's what she's thinking. Going to hunt people, that's what we're doing, not just finding food.

Leo squares his jaw, irritated to be taken out of leadership, but agrees to her plan anyway. Alexandra opts to go alone, seeing as she is the strongest, Leo and Aeryn team up, and I'm put with Borgy. He shoots me a small smile as we gather our packs together, and agree to meet back at the waterfall at midday, whether or not we've found anything.

Together, Borgy and I delve deeper into the jungle, searching for animals or plants that seem edible. Every once in a while he leans to the ground and picks up a root or strange looking vegetable and places it in his pack, mumbling something about possible food sources. I don't really listen, simply taking in the beauty of the rainforest around us. The lush green leaves and tall trees with branches that blot out the sun is not something I'm used to, and neither is the sweltering heat. Sweat runs down my forehead as we go deeper and deeper, and I can feel my entire body heating up under the fitted jumpsuit. Then, something strange happens.

A droplet of water lands on my head. Frowning, I bring my finger up to check it and bring it to my lips, tasting... Pure, clean water. I stop abruptly, causing Borgy to almost bang into me, and point at the sky, encouraging him to look. He does so, just as water begins to come down a little more heavily, properly noticeable now. They run down our faces and clothes, soaking us to the skin. The water is warm, which is better than the freezing cold rain we had at home, but there's something strangely dense about this rain. And it keeps getting heavier and heavier.

Soon, my hair is plastered to my scalp and I'm having to blink continuously to stop my eyes being clouded over with water. And it's only getting heavier. Soon, the sound of it hitting the leaves is deafeningly loud, and there is the loud crash of thunder to go with it. In a matter of minutes, a storm has begun.

"Borgy, move!" I scream at him as I begin to stagger through the pelting rain; it feels like I'm getting punched every single time a droplet lands on my face. The water is making my jumpsuit droop terribly, now, and everything about me feels too heavy to keep running. I can hear Borgy's heavy footsteps behind me, followed quickly by a crash of thunder. Side by side, hampered by the hammering water, we sprint meaninglessly through the jungle, attempting to find some sort of cover... Then, my heart freezes in my ribcage as I hear a loud roar echoing through the place. And then, I am thrown to the floor as a heavy body throws itself onto mine.

Screaming in shock, I look up into the face of a tiger.

It roars again, louder this time, and I can practically hear my heart thumping harder and harder against my chest. I scream and scream, hearing it roar again and again as it brings up one huge, heavy paw to swat at me... Then, it looks up at the last moment, seemingly spotting something in the rain. Oh God. Borgy.

It throws itself towards him, landing it's powerful hind paws in my stomach and winding me considerably. With a cry of pain I double over, holding my already wounded stomach as tears begin to work their way out of my eyes. I can hear Borgy screaming for help as the animal throws itself at him, and the horrible sound of tearing flesh.

Turning around, I watch in horror as the tiger dives at him, and he lets out another, almost inhuman scream as it tears at his chest. His jumpsuit rips and long strips of dribbling red appear in place of the fabric, as the tiger brings back another heavily padded paw to his shoulder, and I hear a crack of something inside him snapping as he screams in pain again. He falls to his knees, tears pouring from his eyes, mixing with the blood from his mouth and nose from where the animal smacked him over the head. His eyes meet mine, pleading.

Borgy's mouth opens in an O of dripping red gore, as he attempts to make out words. The tiger is chewing at him now, sinking fangs into his side again and again as it tastes the human flesh. It is most likely a mutt: I can see the robotic look in it's glassy eyes. But that doesn't matter. It's _eating _my ally.

"G-go!" he manages to get out, before closing his eyes and lying back, limp as a ragdoll. Although his cannon has not yet gone, I imagine that he will not survive for long, not now that he has given up. The disgusting sound of the tiger ripping pieces of his flesh off to chew and swallow makes me feel sick and, as I look at his dying body, a tear trickles down my cheek. But before the tiger has a chance to notice me again, I take off as fast as I can back into the jungle, the heavy realisation that I have lost an ally hitting me harder and harder with every step.

**BOOM!**

**GLINT FORGE, DISTRICT 1 MALE**

Absinthe sits far too close to me as we all sit around the fire, watching it. We're all drenched to the bone after that thunderstorm earlier, and a cannon went off... And it was not because of us. Most of the others are angry that we aren't doing our job properly as a Career pack, but I don't mind. It's easier to win if the people just die, and I don't like killing. As much as I pretend to love mindless slaughter, since I don't want to seem weak on National Television, every murder I see only reminds me of Callias. My training partner... Who I killed to cement my place in these Games.

When Absinthe notices my glazed stare, a concerned look comes into her eyes. She always seems to know what to do for me, Paco, Medal, and Archie. She doesn't bother with the girls; she's offhand with Vex and Kiva, and seems to have a personal vendetta against Piper, who hates her with a passion I've never seen before. If we hadn't held her back last night, I'm pretty certain Piper would have killed her then and there.

"Glint, are you alright?" she asks anxiously, and I can see Piper rolling her eyes and getting up to go into the Cornucopia in a search for food. She doesn't like seeing me and Absinthe together at all, even more than she doesn't like Archie and her together. Vex is the only one who beats her out with death stares when Archie and Absinthe are talking, which is almost amusing to watch. Kiva is the only one who doesn't seem to have an opinion, good or bad, of her. However, I've often seen the her looking at Absinthe sideways.

"I'm fine!" I reply, a touch too cheerfully. She nods slowly, and then, a wide smile comes onto her face. One hand finds it's way to my arm and she turns two fingers into legs, pretending that her hand is walking up my arm. I notice Kiva stuffing her hands into her mouth to keep from laughing at that.

"I'm so, so hungry..." she yawns, stretching her arms out. The movement has a fantastic effect on the top half of her jumpsuit, and it practically _strains_. Both Medal and Paco are staring openly, and Archie is looking at the floor, clearly embarrassed. His bright pink cheeks are a clue to that. Piper emerges out from the Cornucopia and quickly ducks back in again. "You don't think you could go and fetch me some food, could you?"

Although I don't want to be her slave, the effect that she's having on me is... um... Jumping to my feet like an overeager puppy, I practically run to the Cornucopia, smashing headlong into Piper, who has tears of laughter dribbling down her cheeks. I shoot her a questioning look, and she smiles, shaking her head at me, and winks.

"Be careful, Glint," she tells me, a genuinely motherly smile on her face. "You know what Alcohol-Girl is like."

I look at her for a moment, unsure of what she is trying to say, before shrugging and picking up a loaf of bread from on top of a crate, as well as an apple and a few pieces of dried bacon. Then, I walk back out into the open, and she follows me, a grin on her face. It instantly fades when she realises that Absinthe is staring at us, replaced by a moody glare. Absinthe shoots her an evidently fake smile.

"Oh, hello Piper! What on earth were you doing to your hair in there? It looks like a pile of straw- no offence meant."

Piper grits her teeth, and I ready myself for another explosive fight. But a polite smile comes onto her face. She touches one ear, looking rather concerned about something. I just watch her dumbly, frowning. What on earth is she doing? Everyone else looks rather non-plussed too, apart from Archie. There is a wide smirk on his face, as if anticipating something. When I shoot him a questioning glance, he chooses to ignore it.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Piper says, raising her eyebrows apologetically. She shrugs, a goodnatured smile still firmly plastered on her face. "I couldn't quite hear you over the bitch alarms going off in my head."

There is a moment of silence, before most of the assembled burst into loud, raucous laughter. Absinthe blushes a fierce shade of red, and shoots Piper (who is looking rather pleased with herself) a horrible look.

Archie, who seems to be laughing the loudest, looks up at his district partner with eyes streaming tears of laughter. "You totally stole that from Sugar!" he shouts at her, and she nods smugly, before coming to sit down with us like nothing is wrong.

After a few more minutes, we get up and get going into the jungle to hunt. It's nighttime now, and the dead tribute's face (the boy from District 11) came up in the sky to let us know that he's dead. He stares out over the arena for one last time, before he disappears. It's a strangely beautiful yet morbid moment: another death closer to winning.

As a pack, we run into the jungle, bloodthirsty and ready for more slaughter.

**CANZI LESTAT, DISTRICT 3 FEMALE**

Sweat pouring down my forehead, I sprint through the forest, pursued by the Careers. They are laughing and cheering as they chase me, getting closer and closer by the second. I don't know where Karen and Dimity are: the second I heard the Careers coming, I bolted. Turns out, I bolted right towards them, which was a very stupid thing to do. Because I now have a group of murderous teenages, all about twice my size, on my back. And there's a high likelihood that I'm doomed.

Leaping over a rock, I dive roll blindly to my right, finding myself falling down a steep hill. Tumbling over myself, unable to keep my feet, I just let myself fall. The leaves and mossy ground cushion me a little, and I land at the bottom of the hill relatively unharmed. However, the Careers are standing at the top; they can still see me. Now, they're running down it, tripping and stumbling every few metres.

"Come back here, you fucking runt!"

"Where are YOU going!?"

"There's nowhere to run, District 3!"

But despite their threats, I keep running, sweat pouring in bucketfulls down my forehead. I have to escape this. I just have to! Thoughts of Asa back home keeps me going, as I picture his agonised face watching me run. If I fail, it means condemning him too to death, not just myself... Oh God...

They're hot on my heels, now, and I can practically feel the cold steel of metal on my back. An arrow flies over my shoulder and inbeds itself in a tree ahead of me, and I squeal in actual terror as I feel them getting closer and closer. The ground is practically a blur under my feet as I run, but I can feel my legs weakening with every footstep. The ground is still slippery after the storm earlier, and it's getting harder and harder to keep going. I just want to give up and fall to my knees, and let myself die. But I can't do that.

Then, I feel arms around my ankles, tackling me to the ground. With a desperate shriek, I kick my foot out and hear the satisfying crunch that means I've hurt someone, as well as a feminine scream of pain. Scrambling to my feet, I continue to run as fast as I can. Injuring one of their number has slowed them down, and it takes them a little longer to catch up to me this time. I don't even know where I am anymore: I'm running in pitch black, as the trees overhead are too dense for any light to get through. I can only hear them, only smell their sweat and exhaustion as they chase me. Soon, perhaps, they'll give up and let me go... I don't even know how long they've been pursuing me. So long that my chest is tightening with every step, and I can feel my windpipe getting drier and drier with frenzied breaths.

Their footsteps are faltering a little now, and they seem to be slowing down. But I must keep running: if they slow and I slow too, they'll still be able to catch me. I must keep the same pace... One, two, one, two... Letting the pattern run through my mind again, I run and run as fast as I can, breathing in short sharp bursts. There is a stitch in my side that makes me want to fall over and clutch it, but I can't do that. Not now.

Soon, their steps falter away, and I am running further and further into the pitch black of the island alone... And the deeper it gets, the darker it goes. And the darker it gets, the deeper I go. Oh God... It feels like there's something in the air to make it denser. It is oddly colder here, and I begin shivering a little. A fierce difference from the sweltering heat of the rest of the island.

There's a strange smell. Like... like rotting flesh. The longer I run, the stronger it gets. After a few minutes, I stop and pause, standing in the pitch black. In this almost terrifying silence, I can only hear the sound of my own breathing my heart beating hard. This whole atmosphere is scaring me... Backing up, I clutch my weapons nervously, not quite knowing what to expect. There is a sick feeling in my stomach.

"I... I gotta get out of here." I mutter to myself. This place makes me more frightened than all of the Careers combined. Hell, I'd rather face Enobaria, the fanged victor from District 2, than stay in here much longer. It's... it's strange.

But then, just as I turn to leave, I realise that there is somebody standing right in front of me. Not moving, just standing there completely still. Unnaturally still. Their head is tilted to one side, as if they're surveying me curiously, and I cannot quite make out their features. The shadows are playing with me, meaning that all I can see of their face is contours and hollows.

"H-hello?" I say, and my voice stumbles as I do so. Coughing awkwardly, I start to back away from the figure. And, as I do so, it begins to walk slowly towards me. But not a walk as such. More of a stumble.

My heart is beating faster than ever now, and I have a horrible feeling, as the person gets closer and closer, that I recognise that face. That face was projected into the sky only an hour or so ago... It's the face of the boy from District 11.

A boy who is supposedly dead.

As he gets closer and closer, I realise that one arm is hanging loosely at his side, and his mouth is hanging open. His jaw appears to be broken, because it's hanging down horribly, and there is blood spewing down his chin. I retch at the sight and continue backing away, but my body is stiffening with fear. I find myself rooted to the spot, horrified, as he comes closer and closer to me. There are cuts all over his body, and bite marks in his side... Something, or somebody, has been knawing away at him. One hand is a simple bloody stump, and he makes this horrible groaning sound as he walks.

"What the hell? Stop this! Please stop this!" I beg the Gamemakers as he comes closer and closer, and I back away as quickly as I can. The thought of turning around scares me even more than him, since behind me is the unknown, and anything could be there... Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, I let out a wail of fear and continue stepping slowly backwards. "Please! Please, I'm scared. You've got your show. Please!" But nothing stops him. He keeps coming towards me... I have to go! I need to run! But my body isn't letting me, it's like everything has slowed down...

Just as I have finally mustered the strength to run, I turn around...

And scream in agony as a person leans forwards and bites my neck. They pull their head back sharply, and I hear a horrible ripping sound as my skin goes with them, and watch in open mouthed horror as a sheet of blood goes crashing to the ground. The undead girl from District 7 stands in front of me, a vacant look in her eyes, as she holds a large piece of my skin in between her teeth. Then, I feel teeth on the back of my neck as I am pulled backwards, letting out another long, loud wail.

"NO! No, please not like this, please not like this!" I fall backwards to the floor and scramble backwards like a helpless insect, but I find myself colliding with another pair of legs and look up into the face of the boy from District 12... The dead boy from District 12.

They all begin to crowd around me, them and the boys from 7 and 9 too... And then, something happens that makes me begin to scream even louder. Copper approaches, a knife in his hand. His eyes are glassy and vacant like the others, but there is a sadistic smile on his face. He advances on me and straddles my waist, holding the knife above my face... And then, it connects with my skin. He begins to slice me to pieces.

**MEANWHILE, IN THE CAPITOL...**

Falion Marsey, the Head Gamemaker, stares at the picture on the television screen: a screaming young girl being slowly chopped to pieces. The undead tributes are eating her alive... It's one of the most disgusting things he's ever put onto screen, and he knows that he should probably put the censors up. But it's making too much of an impression on the Capitol audience to do so. As Canzi Lestat from District 3 lets out another loud squeal of agony, her face now little more than a screaming skull, he turns his back on the screen, feeling rather ill.

**BOOM!**

But then, as Canzi's cannon goes, he remembers something. A certain younger brother that needs seeing to.

Walking over to the phone, he dials the number of the Head Peacekeeper in District 3's office, and listens to it ringing for a few moments. Eventually, the wretched man picks up, and Falion smiles a little mirthlessly. He savours the words as they come out of him. "Canzi Lestat is dead. Tonight, when on break from the Games, please televise Asa Lestat's execution. As soon as possible. Yes, thank you. May the Odds be Ever in your Favour and all that."

And then, he hangs up.

**!NOTE FROM LACHANCE!**

**God, I feel vaguely ill after writing that... I need a cigarette, and I don't even smoke. I'm actually shaking- I feel like I've just watched Human Centipede again. Urgh. Anyway, those who heeded the warning at the beginning of the chapter, I do not judge you at all. I personally would have skipped it. Oh well, please don't judge me. I'm not a homicidal maniac, I swear, I do feel like I'm going to have trouble sleeping tonight. I'll probably never write anything that disgusting again, so savour it while you can ;P**

**24th- Jared Oakwood, District 7 Male**

**23rd- Rye Harrid, District 9 Male**

**22nd- Marcus Nosa, District 12 Male**

**21st- Rowan Mason, District 7 Female**

**20th- Copper Astridei, District 3 Male**

**19th- Borgy Cotter, District 11 Male**

**18th- Canzi Lestat, District 3 Female**


	22. Day 3

**From re-reading the last chapter, I have actually gathered that the whole thing wasn't all that bad. The original went into a lot more detail and, let's say, did not stop at "and then he started to cut me to pieces"… So yeah, tamer than I thought. This chapter is similar in goriness to the last chapter; let me know in a review or pm if I should take it up/down a notch. **

**Please read the authors note at the end. Important information about polls and such, after a quick rant about Elder Scrolls.**

**PIPER CAVENDISH, DISTRICT 4 FEMALE**

It's so early that it's almost dark. I'm on watch while the other tributes sleep, along with Medal. He's on the other side of our makeshift camp, weaving a knife through his fingers. He does not look particularly enthralled by the activity, and there is a sullen expression on his face. Although Archie and Absinthe took the main night shift, being shaken awake in the ridiculous hours of the morning by my worst enemy in these Games was not a fantastic moment for me. Absinthe. Everything about her makes me shake with anger and hatred; the way that she's manipulating everyone in our alliance to follow her lead. And since nobody else will, I need to stop it.

Gritting my teeth, I watch her sleeping form. She's actually quite pretty, and I can sort of see why the boys are all so interested in her. However, the way she acts is disgusting. Forever acting like the queen of all sluts in front of Glint, Medal, Archie and Paco, or like a sweet little girl in front of Kivuta and Vex. Despite the fact she's small and useless when it comes to combat, she's actually the one I'm most nervous about in this situation. Vex and Kiva both seem to realise what kind of person she is, and generally take my side in arguments, but the boys all act completely oblivious.

A low rumble a little way away makes me spin around, heart thumping hard. Turning my head around quickly, I see that Medal is looking the same way, and shoot him an excited grin. Oddly, the adrenaline of these Games actually makes me more excitable than nervous or bloodthirsty. He walks towards me, his weapons raised, and a small frown on his face. He nods his head at the volcano, and raises his eyebrows at me.

"Sounds like the tremors are starting," he says, with a small smile. Walking a little in front of me, he stares up almost reverently at the gigantic volcano. It towers above us: a huge mass of stone, soil and occasional shrubs. It shows no sign of being anything but a benign mountain yet, but the Gamemakers have managed to make it very clear that it is a volcano. The ashy paths winding their way down it shows us that.

"Tremors?" I ask, raising my eyebrows at him. He pauses for a few seconds, as if thinking. Then, he turns back to me.

"Yeah. And I'm not just talking about the volcano." Medal nods his head at Absinthe, who is lying fast asleep on the ground next to Glint. She is snoring: if I snored, I'd probably sound like a pig with a cold. She manages to sound adorable, and there is a content smile on her face. I glare at her, before turning back to the boy from 2, who is looking down at her with something strange in his eyes. Then, slowly, he looks back at me. "She's got Glint in her palm," he informs me, biting his lip. Frowning back at him, I nod.

"As well as you, Archie and Paco. It's only a matter of time until she starts on Kiva and Vex. She needs to go. Soon."

Medal smirks at me, and grips his knife even harder in hand. Striding swiftly towards her, he kneels on the ground next to her and holds the weapon to her throat. I feel my breath hitch as I watch him there, holding cold metal to Absinthe's throat. I can feel a little satisfaction coming up in me, but there's guilt there too. After having an episode of losing all control in the Bloodbath, the idea of killing again scares me. But then again, it has to happen. I just wish that my mother had never been a rebel agent, so none of this would have happened… I wouldn't be in here right now.

"How about now?" the vicious boy from 2 says, and I watch as the blade begins to bite into her skin. How can she be staying asleep through all of this? We're discussing her death, Medal has a knife already digging into her throat, and she's still snoring happily? Wow. I wish I could be that much of a deep sleeper.

Slowly, I nod. And that makes him smile.

Taking a deep breath, he brings the knife up a little bit, and I feel my eyes following it. My heart is pounding faster and faster in my chest. She's never going to wake up from this sleep… It's almost heart-breaking how adorable she looks. For a few seconds, I feel a lump rising in my throat at the idea that such a vulnerable looking person is soon to be dead. And then memories of her taunting me rise up in my mind, and I clench my fists. This has to be done. Better in her sleep than while she can feel the pain, I suppose.

Like a practised executioner, Medal raises the blade… up and up it goes… and he's just bringing it down, when he is thrown to the floor. He yells in anger, still holding the knife, as Paco towers above him with a thunderstruck look in his eyes. Hurriedly, I sneak into the Cornucopia and lean against the crates, examining my fingernails. If anyone comes in now, it will look like I wasn't part of that whole plan… But I prick up my ears. In any other situation, I'd run to Medal's aid. But this is a Game of death.

"What were you doing!?" Paco is hissing, quietly so not to wake the others. I don't hear Medal's reply, but it sounds extremely irritable. They seem to be having some kind of whispered argument, and I can't make out very many words. Then, I hear a cut off shout of pain and my eyes widen. Paco and Medal both have reasonably similar voices… I can't make out which one of them it was. Well, if it was Medal who died, the strangled yell is a good pretext to "realising that something is going on".

Walking out there, I brace myself for the worst… And let out a gasp, clutching my stomach in horror. Medal is kneeling on the ground, blood smeared all over his hands up to his elbows, and Paco is on the floor next to him. The boy from 2 is slowly and methodically slamming the knife into his guts, and Paco doesn't seem to be able to respond… The reason for that is lying on the floor next to them, in a puddle of blood. Paco's tongue lies curled up on the ground, hacked off at the end, with strings of flesh and raggedy ends coming off it. It looks like a piece of raw meat, and the horrible, low grunting sounds that the boy is making now are making me feel indescribably ill.

After a few more moments, Medal notices me standing there, dumbstruck, and gestures me over. There is a rather on-edge expression on his face, and he stands up, over the still barely alive Paco. His face is a mutilated mess of blood and flesh, patches of skin missing. His eyes, red and swollen, are barely open. He looks at me pleadingly, but I keep my eyes averted. Come on, Piper, show no weakness…

"I'm going to go into the jungle, and you finish him off," Medal informs me, a dark look in his eyes. "You'll tell them that… that the girls from District 5 and 8 came here and killed him, in revenge for the runt from 3. Those two will presume that it was us who killed her. Say that I ran into the woods in pursuit, and start crying or whatever… Put on an act."

It's a thin story and may not work, but we'll have to try. He throws the knife at me, before running into the green expanse of the jungle. Catching the knife, I get down on my knees and shuffle over to Paco, raising the knife above his chest.

"I'm sorry."

And, shutting my eyes, I bring it down towards him.

**BOOM!**

**NEON SKYLARK, DISTRICT 5 MALE**

"Let me go!" I snarl, hissing in pain as I feel my face being ground into the dirt. The boy from District 2 is sitting on top of me, his teeth gritted in concentration as he keeps me in a firm hold. I was trying to find some food, since I'm starving hungry and haven't eaten in what seems like forever, and he came bounding out of the bushes and tackled me to the floor. I don't know how long we've been fighting, but I'm beginning to get extremely weary and I can feel my limbs growing weaker and weaker with every punch he throws to my head, and pull on my body.

Still, I fight back. He rolls me over to the side and his fist comes crashing down towards my head, and I catch it with one hand and slam it back, thrusting my groin forwards and forcing him into the air. He falls backwards, and pulls a machete out of his belt as he does so and comes at me again, slinging it down towards me. I duck to the right, and throw myself forward on the ground, feeling a whoosh of air that means he's sent the machete slicing down at where my head was. Spinning around on the floor, I grab at his legs and send him to the floor. The boy sends another wild swipe at my head, but I catch his wrist at the last moment and we wrestle furiously, sweat running down both of our foreheads.

Then, he brings up a foot and catches me in the stomach, sending me backwards. I let out a grunt of pain and fall to the floor, rolling to the side to avoid the machete. It sinks a few inches into the soil, and I gaze at it in terror. That could have been my head if I'd moved a second later!

Fear pulsing through my veins, I roll forwards to my feet as he struggles to pull the blade out of the ground and throw myself onto his back, beating him over the head with my fists. I dropped my knife when he first attacked me, too shocked to do anything but drop everything I was carrying and attempt to run. He reels around, slashing mindlessly at the air and trying to dislodge me from his back, but I hold firm. I either need to injure him badly enough to stop him chasing after me, or get hold of that damn machete… But he runs backwards into a tree, smashing me into the bark hard. I feel the wind get knocked out of me and slide off him to the ground, cradling my stomach. He grins, satisfied to have got me at last, and points the machete at my throat. Chest pumping up and down faster and faster, I stare down at the cold blade pressing painfully into my flesh, then stare up at him pleadingly.

"Say goodbye, District 5!" he whispers, and brings back his arm to impale me through the throat. Then, there is a crack and he falls to the ground with a whimper. I stare at him in shock, unsure what has just happened, before I spot the figure standing behind him. It's Lilit from District 10: the girl I saved a couple of days ago. She holds a large rock in one hand, and is staring down at the boy from 2 who is on the floor, holding onto his head with both hands, a look of fear on his face.

"Go!" she growls at him, and he quickly does as he is told, sprinting off into the jungle. Smart; he decided to put aside his pride and get away with his life. I don't have time to think more about him, however, before I realise that Lilit is holding something out to me. There is an expectant look on her face. Looking down, I notice that it is the machete that he must have dropped when she hit him over the head.

I take it in my left hand, before tucking it into my belt, without taking my eyes off her. She saved my life… But why?

"I owe you," she says, biting her lip a little nervously. I notice that she still holds the rock firmly in her hand, as if expecting me to lash out at her with the machete. "You saved my life from the boy from 3. And now I've saved your life too. We don't owe each other anymore."

I nod dumbly. She nods too, before pausing and letting a slightly gleeful smirk come onto her face. Stepping back, she deposits the rock in her pack again, and lets out a small laugh.

"Plus, I felt like such a badass hitting a Career twice my size over the head with a rock. I'd better be pulling some sponsors for this, or I'll gut Caesar Flickerman and feed his entrails to homeless orphans when I get out of this…" she pauses. "_If _I get out of this, that is."

I smile at the image of her gutting the overly cheerful television host, and reach out a hand. She stares at it curiously for a few seconds, clearly not sure what she's supposed to do. Looking up, she frowns at me.

"I was thinking we should shake hands. We don't owe each other anything now, after all."

Lilit just looks at me for a few seconds, before shrugging and taking my hand with her own. She deliberately shakes with the hand that does not have an extra finger, and I can't help but feel a little bit grateful for that. It freaks me out a little, as much as I'd never admit that to her (why am I so feely about this?). When we finish shaking, she gives me one last small, rather lopsided smile, before walking off into the jungle again. I can't help but stare after her. I've never met anybody quite as strange and quirky as she is, and I doubt I ever will again, since I'm never getting out of this mess. As much as I know she's an enemy, now, and not somebody to be trusted… I can't help but feel a little wistful as she walks away.

**LEO ADESSI, DISTRICT 6 MALE**

It's like the boy from 5 comes out of nowhere. First thing I know, we're sitting in a circle around a dying campfire, discussing our pasts. Then, there is a feeling of cold metal against the back of my neck, and I freeze. It isn't digging into my skin quite yet, and he hasn't drawn blood. But there is an insistent sort of push to the blade that makes me know that he will stab me if he has to.

"Back away from him now," Jay snarls, getting to her feet from her seat next to Aeryn. She has been on edge ever since what happened to Borgy right in front of her eyes yesterday, and I don't imagine the idea of losing another ally really appeals to her. Aeryn grabs her arm and pulls her down, an alert expression on her face. She's always been the one to calm us all down, and was the one awkwardly patting Jay's shoulder as she sobbed yesterday, when none of the rest of us could calm her down. Although I am very much joking about their homosexuality, they do seem to be close friends. That's a good thing, since Jay could probably do with a friend who she doesn't feel the urge to attack all the time.

"What do you want, 5?" Alexandra asks in a cool tone, getting to her feet. I hold my breath, feeling the blade digging a little deeper into my skin, but he stops before drawing blood. There is something about Alexandra's relaxed posture, and the way she holds her hands in the air to show that she means no harm, seems to calm him a little. The blade slowly retracts from its place on the back of my neck.

"Nothing. I'm not here to kill you… Just got startled. I don't want a fight." His voice is weary, and I feel the blade being taken away from my neck, and swivel around to watch him putting it in his belt. It's a machete, a little shorter than an actual sword, and there's dried blood on it. So that means he's probably killed somebody. The bruises on his face and neck prove that he's been in a fight… Is he trustworthy?

He sees my stare, and shakes his hair out of his face. His irises are colourless and dull looking, and he seems to lack a great deal of pigment in himself. Strange. "I was attacked by the boy from District 2, but Lilit from District 10 helped me out… I saved her from the boy from 3 a few days ago. This machete belongs to him. I don't know who he's killed with it…" he pauses, then sighs. "I'm not good at talking to people. I'm Neon Skylark, from District 5."

We are all silent for a few moments. Then, Alexandra gets to her feet and takes his head, giving it a firm shake. "Alexandra Reuben, District 11," she informs him, before looking expectantly at the rest of us. We all pause for a second, unsure of what to do in this situation. I still don't trust him, but I suppose I trust Alexandra's judgement. There's something about that girl… She's more attractive than any girl I've met back in District 6. She's independent, intelligent, headstrong, smart… And she can keep up a banter with me.

"I'm Leo. Leo Adessi. Here's all you need to know about me: I'm from District 6. I like driving things. I care about these guys. I hate untrustworthy people. And if you betray us, I'll kill you." It's blunt, sure, but I don't want to risk this alliance. I've come to like and care about each one of them, and I will not lose them to this Neon boy. He nods, looking a little fronted, before Aeryn and Jay both introduce themselves. If this boy puts any of us at risk, I swear…

**Yes, Leo was being Arnbjorn from Skyrim in this chapter. I've been playing it for an hour or so today, and I couldn't help but put that in. God, I hate Arnbjorn so much it's actually ridiculous… Although I like Leo. It actually sounded pretty cool coming from him, and I doubt I'd mind it that much if used in his context… So yeah.**

**I'm going to put up a poll on my profile for pairings in this. Some of them will be semi jokes (for example JAERYN), but vote for them if you must. They probably won't go in, though. The highest voted pairings will be put in so… Vote, vote, vote!**

**24th- Jared Oakwood, District 7 Male**

**23rd- Rye Harrid, District 9 Male**

**22nd- Marcus Nosa, District 12 Male**

**21st- Rowan Mason, District 7 Female**

**20th- Copper Astridei, District 3 Male**

**19th- Borgy Cotter, District 11 Male**

**18th- Canzi Lestat, District 3 Female**

**17- Paco Cutthroat, District 8 Male**


	23. Day 4

**You people! I tell you that I'm marginally joking about Jaeryn, and it only wins the poll by pretty much a million points... Tell you what: I'll pm the creators of said characters, and check if they mind. But, tbh, there's a low chance it's going in. Be casual ;)**

**VEX ZAKHAE, DISTRICT 1 FEMALE**

"Tributes, tributes..."

A voice pierces its way into my head, and I find myself being pulled from the tender grasp of sleep. Wearily, I struggle myself into a sitting position, kicking part of the sleeping bag down until it is around my waist. The sky is pinkish orange: it's early morning, and a huge, yellow sun is peeping over the horizon of the jungle. In any other context, this could be called beautiful. But we're in a Games of death, a Game in which we must kill one another. There is no beauty in this situation.

Taking my slim swords from their places on my hips, I twirl them once in hand, before getting clumsily to my feet and glancing around. The commentators have something to say, no doubt a trial for today. It is too early to be a Feast... So what could it be? Only Absinthe and Glint seem to be awake, and they are squinting blearily at the skies.

"Today, we have a little... trial for you. In exactly one hour's time, we will pump poisonous gas through the arena. The muttations will not be harmed, bear that in mind."

My eyes snap open and I feel my heart pumping hard against my ribcage. They're going to pump poisonous gas into the arena? There has to be a catch; they can't kill all of us this early on... Can they?

There is a slight chuckle in the voice of Claudius Templesmith, the commentator of the Games, as he continues. "In order to avoid the gas, you must reach the top of the volcano. For the remainder of today, the gas will remain. At the stroke of midnight, it will disappear and you will be able to continue... _as normal_. Be warned, if you do not reach the top of the volcano in one hour's time, you will die. May the Odds be _Ever_ in Your Favour."

I let out a squeak of shock and turn to the volcano. It lies dormant... for now. But what if this is some cruel trick of the Gamemakers, and it will erupt when we all get there? What if there is no poison gas at all, and it is simply a hoax? But personally, I don't want to risk death. Having my skin stripped off my body, as my lungs fill with the noxious substance... That's probably a dramatisation of what will actually happen, but I don't really care. It sounds good.

Running over to Kiva, I shake her awake frantically. She moans and grumbles, swatting at my face several times, but I pay her no heed. Eventually, when she continuously refuses to wake up, I smack her hard around the face. That wakes her.

"Oww, bloody hell!" Kivuta whines, rubbing her cheek where I slapped her. There is a rather unslightly red handprint where I hit, so I suppose I hit her a little harder than originally intended... However, I quickly relay the information to her and she becomes alert, grabbing her weapon and backpack. Glint, Kiva and I wake up the others, while Absinthe stands a few metres away, shifting nervously from foot to foot. I can tell she is just about ready to bolt, and shoot her a glare.

"Come help wake everyone up and fetch supplies!" I order, crossing my arms. Although my heart is pounding hard against my ribcage, this is really too much. She is just standing there idly, not doing a thing to help the alliance.

"I think you're doing just fine on your own," she replies shortly, tossing her hair. I stare at her, disgusted, for a few moments, before rolling my eyes and marching off. She really has got something bloody coming to her, that girl...

"You speak an infinite deal of _nothing_," I mumble to myself, quoting from Shakespeare like I always do when I become agitated.

Soon, we are pelting through the jungle towards the mountain. My hair is in huge disarray, but I hardly care. Well, I do sort of care, but... Nothing can be done. Absinthe is a few metres ahead of us all, having chosen to set off about two minutes before the rest of us did, and none of us has quite been able to catch up to her yet. The looks of raw fear on the other Careers' faces are almost shocking. We are the Careers: bloodthirsty, mindless tributes who only live to kill... right? But now, with our lives truly in danger, there is no room for arrogance.

While Absinthe just barges through countless leaves and vines, Medal runs a little ahead of us and slashes them out of the way with a machete. He lost his original machete yesterday, after Paco was killed... If I see those girls from District 5 and 8, I'll kill them! I can't believe they had the nerve to kill Paco, since they've always seemed rather meek-mannered before now... But I miss him. Nobody else seems to, much, but I do. Or maybe everyone does, and just won't admit it.

Then, I feel myself falling forwards and let out a squeal, as I skid along the ground a few feet, grazing my hands and knees horribly on the ground. I kneel there for a second, staring at my hands, shredded flesh on the palms. Letting out a quiet whimper, I attempt to get to my feet, but fall to the ground again with a moan. My knees are shaking and painful, and my ankle gives way underneath me when I attempt to run.

Hopelessly, I just sit there for a few moments, unsure of what to do, fear pulsing through my body... Are they going to leave me behind? I look around wildly for someone, _anyone _to come to my rescue... But I'm alone in the jungle. My breathing quickens and I scramble around like a fish of water, trying to drag myself towards the others, but I've lost all sense of direction. I'm surrounded with thick bushes and trees... Then, I hear somebody running towards me. Branches breaking as they come right towards me... I'm going to die. I'm going to die!

Whimpering under my breath, I shut my eyes and wait for the end... But I feel strong arms lifting me, and open my eyes in shock. Who is this person? Then, as I am slung over a muscular shoulder, I catch sight of a familiar face. Archie has come back for me.

"The others aren't waiting, we have to go," he mumbles, before holding me firmly in place and beginning to run again. Up towards the volcano.

**DIMITY CHIFFON, DISTRICT 8 FEMALE**

I let out a scream as an arrow flies over my head. I don't know where Karen is... All of this is mayhem. There is limited room on top of the volcano, and people are fighting for the highest spot possible. Nobody knows where the gas is going to come up to yet, and until it actually appears, we're all trying to get the highest vantage point we can. People are fighting to get onto the very tip, pushing people down. It's lucky that this volcano isn't very steep, or at least half of the remaining tributes would be dead. The bigger boys and girls are pushing and kicking everyone out of the way, and others are simply being thrown backwards... No deaths, yet. Weapons haven't really come into play.

Until now.

There are several loud shrieks as another arrow flies into the air, but somebody elbows the shooter in the face hard enough for it to ricochet off into the jungle. There is a squeal of pain from the shooter, the boy from 4. The girl from 1 is clinging onto his back like a limpet, and he must be some kind of physical wonder to be able to shoot whilst she holds onto him. My heart pumps harder and harder as I duck under the outstretched arms of the boy from 10, who is blundering around, shouting the name of somebody.

Throwing myself forwards, I trip him up, and he lands on the grounds with a loud shout of pain. He actually leaves the ground as he trips and plummets down a small dip in the rocky surface. The slope was steep at first, although it is far gentler up near the top, but there are no bushes or trees up here. It is pure hardened rock, and is very painful to land on. Despite the commotion, I hear a sickening crunch as he hits the rock, and blood spurts out around him.

But I don't have time to watch him, because a fist sends me reeling backwards onto the ground. The girl from 2 bears down on me, a nervous but determined expression on her face. She pulls a knife from her belt and sends it down towards my face, and I roll out of the way at the last moment, my heart thudding against my ribcage. She lets out a scream of irritation as the knife hits the rock and sends vibrations up her arm, and dives towards me through a forest of moving legs. There is a look of fierce concentration in her eyes, and I feel fear pounding through my heart. Is this really it? I don't want to die now!

With all of my might, I bring a foot into her face and there is a loud, unpleasant crack on impact. She yells in shock and pain and reels backwards, clutching both hands to her nose. Blood dribbles from under her hands and onto the rocks, and she glares at me, as she tries to stem the stream flowing from her nose. Hopefully it's broken, which will put her out of action for a little while. Then, there is a shout.

"The gas! It's coming!"

It's a male voice, and sounds panicked and frantic. Several other voices pick up the call, and the madness goes up a notch. It's like a circle pit, now, with everyone moving, screaming, and smashing into one another. There are cries of fear and horror, and people screeching their loved ones names as they throw themselves into the middle of things. Everyone seems worried that they will end up on the outside, and will somehow be pulled into the gas.

I find myself facing the outside, on my hands and knees, with people scrambling over me in their frenzied attempts to get to the middle. Nobody seems worried about fighting each other, now; they just want to save their own lives. With terror, I stare at the bright green gas, metres away from my face. The entire arena is clouded with it, and I can smell it from here. Strong, chemical, and disgusting... I gag as it fills my nostrils, and back into the fray.

Somebody trips over me, and grabs my hair for support as they go tumbling backwards. A few strands part with my scalp as I am yanked to the floor with somebody else, and I glance behind me to see Karen lying there. She shoots me an apologetic grimace, before scrambling to her feet and leaving me there, on the floor. More people clamber over me in their desperate attempt to get to the middle, and I just shut my eyes and lie there. Everything is dark; the bodies running around above me completely block out the sun. I just lie there hopelessly, the stench of gas, sweat, and blood taking me over completely. If I play dead, perhaps people will ignore me?

And then, people begin to spread out. The gas recedes about twenty metres with every half an hour or so, and I just lie there, fighting to stay alive. I can hear people screaming, and the sound of running footsteps as people attempt to evade death. The sound of blood gushing is prominent, and when I feel something wet touching my side, I have to fight to stop myself moaning. People seem to have taken it for granted that I'm dead, because I find myself being completely ignored. I haven't heard any cannons yet, so it's likely that the blood is merely coming from injured persons. However, nobody has questioned that my cannon has gone off. I keep my breathing shallow, just to make myself a little less obvious.

If I can just play dead till this second bloodbath ends, perhaps I'll be able to live...

**GLINT FORGE, DISTRICT 1 MALE**

It's been going on for hours now, and there's only one person dead. The girl from District 8, lying on the floor, soaking in a puddle of what must be her own blood. I don't recall hearing a cannon, but it's very likely that one went off. It's not likely that anyone would have heard it over the screams and loud footfall. This whole situation is insane, but most people seem more content running around like maddened chickens than actually killing anyone else. It's likely the girl from District 8 got trampled to death. Must be.

Then, I hear a loud scream of horror and turn around to see the boy from District 5 teetering on the top of a large rock. Medal stands in front of him, holding his machete in one hand, pointing it at him. If he falls of the edge... He will no doubt be engulfed by the gas. Despite myself, I feel something drawing me to watch, and do so with a kind of curious horror. What will happen to him? Will he disintegrate, or just die... just like that?

Medal is jabbing the machete at him, forcing him backwards... It's almost like a scene out of one of the storybooks I used to read, about pirates making people walk the plank. Like Peter Pan and Captain Hook, but I don't think the boy from 5 is going to fly. I think he's going to fall and die.

Glancing around, I spot Vex and Archie a few metres to my right. Archie is standing over her with his bow and arrow raised, and she is curled up on the floor, attempting to bandage her ankle. Even from where I'm standing, it looks swollen. Her hands are already bandaged, but her knees look unpleasant. Shredded skin, with dirt embedded into the cuts. It shouldn't make me feel sick, but it really does. They are both watching Medal and the boy from 5 too, with horrored fascination in their eyes.

Holding my mace in one hand, I let it hang loosely at my side as I watch. I'm alert and ready for attackers, but perhaps not quite alert enough. To be honest, I'd make easy prey for anyone right now... But as the boy from 5 takes another step backwards, a spot of blood appearing on his shirt, I feel my stomach clenching. I half want to look away, but I can't bring myself to.

"Go, District 5, go!" Medal shouts, and prods him with the sword. There is desperation in his eyes: from what I've known of Medal, he's not a bad person when you actually talk to him. He has compassion, and that's more than I can say for some of the people I've worked with. But when faced with an enemy... He's chilling to watch.

And then, District 5 takes one last step back, teeters dangerously... I hold my breath as his arms windmill out either side of him, a look of genuine terror on his face. His hair flips backwards, and I let out a low gasp at his eyes. They're a strangely light shade, like some kind of albino... He looks like an albino, actually. Everything about him is pale.

The wind his whipping his hair around him, and he's so close to falling... Then, he falls. I let out a gasp of breath as he does so. It's like he's falling in slow motion, his face contorting in horror as he inches closer and closer to the swirling gas beneath him... Somebody shouts something as he falls, a female voice, but I don't look around to see who it is. He hits the gas.

His screams echo over all of us, and I hear shrieks of horror matching his own at the sight. Almost everyone has stopped to watch now, riveted, although nobody is going to help. He's suspended in the air by the gas, somehow, and is writhing in mid-air, screaming and screaming. His whole body is contorting, his limbs snapping one by one.

_CRACK... CRACK... CRACK... CRACK..._

Even from where I am, I can see the bones pressing against his skin, threatening to split the fine pink fabric that holds him together and burst out into the open. His limbs, now limp, make him look like a ragdoll as blood spews out from his mouth. How is the gas doing all this? What kind of scientist made this, engineered this? What are his parents thinking right now, as their son is slowly dismantled by the gas? They're from District 5... Maybe they even helped make it.

Then, his skin begins to sizzle, like he's on fire. More screams emerge from his lips, now blistering and swelling, as his skin begins emerging into bright red, painful looking sores. Blood splashes down his front from his open, gaping mouth as he hangs there, vomiting his guts down his front. They land wetly on the ground in front of him in a pile of red and white, and his eyes begin to roll back in his head in horror as his skin peels off his bones...

**BOOM!**

The moment his cannon blows, he falls to the ground limply, in a pile of his own guts and blood. His body begins to turn to dust, as he is blown off into the gas. People are retching at this gruesome death, I can hear them. Medal is staring, horrified, out into the gas. For a few seconds, he just gazes out with a look of self-disgust on his face. Then, he composes himself and turns around, his jaw set.

"Who's next?!" he roars, and there is murder in his eyes.

**Wow... Yeesh, poor Neon. I liked him, too. Well, looks like Nilit's dead... Oh well, wasn't intended anyway. Favourite part of this chapter? Gimme a review, and I'll love you forever. And if you don't, I'll kill your tribute... Heh, no, that was a joke. Don't feel compelled ;)**

**Once again, I am not a psycho murdereress. I just watch too many horror movies.**

**24th- Jared Oakwood, District 7 Male**

**23rd- Rye Harrid, District 9 Male**

**22nd- Marcus Nosa, District 12 Male**

**21st- Rowan Mason, District 7 Female**

**20th- Copper Astridei, District 3 Male**

**19th- Borgy Cotter, District 11 Male**

**18th- Canzi Lestat, District 3 Female**

**17- Paco Cutthroat, District 8 Male**

**16- Neon Skylark, District 5 Male**


End file.
